I Paint Sins Not Tragedies
by GothicLolita333
Summary: This story it's about two stories of love, about different worlds, about problems and romance, about friendship and hate, about everything that I know.  NejiGaara and SasuNaru.
1. Chapter 1:Sudden Silence

I never could see the difference between truth and lies when someone said them. I've always saw them like they are two sides that are separated by a thin transparent almost invisible line. I never knew on what side I really am.

But what I know is that I've never liked to lie to someone, even if it would be good for me, I've never wished to lie to someone, and more than this, I've never wanted to lie to someone ,because I've never liked to be, never wished to be, never wanted to be lied.

No matter the reason, the lie always had short legs and in the end, no one is helped by it.

And I guess that explains why there are two sides. Maybe I've lied too, without even realizing it, but some people lie because it's good for them, because they want to lie, they believe, they breathe, they live in lies.

Today, I've realized that I am on the side where the truth is more important than the lie, just because I don't want to lie or worse, to be lied.

But the question is: 'If I don't want to lie and I don't want someone to lie to me, then why that single person which I haven't lied, that person, has told me just lies?'

_**Unfaithful **_

**Chapter 1: Sudden silence **

Typical. That's what crossed through my mind for more times than I could estimate. And the reason why? It's because I really hate to wait, and especially to wait for someone to come, someone who knows that I hate to wait.

It's winter. The snowflakes look like the little fluff from bird's feathers, white feathered bird's fluff, falling from the sky. I've always liked winter, even if it's always cold. I guess that when I look at the ground that it's white, at the wonderful view in front of my eyes that is full of white, it calms me, every single time.

Because it is calm, it is silence, and pure innocent untouched white endless surface. But I began to think that I will freeze right here, in the middle of this wonderful view.

I am standing, beside a tree, with my hands in the pockets of my jacket, and occasionally beating with my foot in up and down in the snow. I've stood like this for exactly 42 minutes. And the cold has entered in my bones, and the snow has almost succeeded to cover me whole.

This tree is at the middle of a big field, and it's enormous and it's old. I know that it's old because I've seen this tree every day from the last 3 years, and I was told that it was here for many years before.

I must say that when it's spring, this tree is the most beautiful cherry tree which I've ever saw. The field is covered with grass when it's spring or summer and with mud when is autumn, and with snow when is winter. And now it is winter.

But when it's winter, this tree it's the scariest at night, and the most lonely tree that I've ever seen when is still day.

I am 17 years old, almost 18 years old, and I am in my last year of high school and I must say that this year seems to be the longest year of those who have passed.

"I am sorry!"

He arrived. And, of course, he yells like always, even if he should be apologizing when he would arrive beside me, it's impossible to don't hear him in this silence and because of the high tone of his voice enough to wake the dead.

"What took you so long?"

He has stopped in front of me. But I did not budge, not even a centimeter. He is tired and breathing quickly, because he has ran a lot. It's more obvious now that he put his hands on his knees and he tries to catch enough air, so his lungs will calm down.

But when he succeeds, he stays normally and he looks at me, and he realized that I don't move, and that I still wait for an answer for my question.

"I overslept."

His name is Naruto Uzumaki, the same age as I am, and almost the same high, I don't know if I am shorter than him or if he is shorter than me.

Blue eyes like a clean water with black rocks in a filled circle in the middle, his eyes have a light made of stubbornness and confidence which is exactly like a clear clean water lighted by the rays of the sun in the middle of summer.

His hair is amazingly blond and it grow a little from the first day of high school, or from the first day of kindergarten, but it is obvious that he has to grow up since kindergarten.

He is not too skinny, but he is not a fat person in any way. He loves the color orange and you can figure that out because almost all of his clothes are orange and you really don't have to ask that question because you will know if you just look at his cloths or things for just three days

He eats just Ramen. If he will ever eat something else then I will lose the bet with myself, which I've made when I first went to eat with him, and this has happened many years ago.

"Perfect! You could just call me to tell me that you will be late this much and to go to school by myself! We will be late for the first class even if we will run!"

He raised one eyebrow and said:

"Good morning to you too, Gaara."

"What morning? It's already 12!"

"Wow! Not in a good mood today?"

"I've waited almost an hour! And it's snowing!"

"I've said I am sorry… let's just skip the first class."

"And go where?"

"I don't know, breakfast?"

I sigh and I gave up.

"Fine. What do you want to eat?"

I don't remember the last time I've asked him this, and I think I asked questions like this just when I let my mouth to speak before my brains can think about it, but I know the answer, and I don't think that I will lose my bet.

"Ramen!"

The blond boy has smiled and I've smiled a little too. His sincere smile and white teeth are something that no one can resist.

As always, we walked or almost ran to Naruto's favorite restaurant with ramen, if it could be named restaurant.

"So, what you want to eat?"

"Nothing. I've already ate my breakfast."

"Just a bowl, come on! It's ramen! You can't say no to ramen!"

"No, really, I've ate."

He gazed at me for one minute and then he just gave up in that thought, realizing that I won't eat no matter what he does.

"Fine."

I think that one day, when we still were in kindergarten we became friends with no reason, we were kids, and we didn't need a reason.

And from that day to today, I've seen Naruto growing, and doing what a human can do.

We've got used to each other, like you get used with the air. For example, we don't need to call each other every day to wait at the tree because someone of us will wait, sometimes we met on the road, it's like we already know.

We don't need to talk about stuff like this. It all became naturally in time.

"Finished?"

"Almost… Can I have just one more bowl please?"

And what I must add is that I never saw a person that could eat so much ramen as him.

After that, we had plenty of time to spend because we decided that we will skip the class that is now ongoing.

Before we will arrive at the school, we will already miss the class. So, the time decided before us.

"If you did not eat four bowls of ramen then we would be at the second class and not trying to arrive at the third!"

"Why do you blame me for everything that happens today?"

That catches me off guard. We are now running on the field and the cold wind with snow it's blowing without mercy right in our faces. Usually, I don't complain, not even once. I don't know why today I feel the urge to do it, or I just let my mouth to talk and to blame Naruto for everything.

There is a small red flag in my mind, that says that it really is his fault because he was the one who was late and the one who ate too much and now we are really incredibly late. But this isn't the first time this has happened, and even so, I'm complaining, without knowing the reason why.

I've began to think about it, and just then when I looked behind me to search for Naruto, I've hit something with my whole body in the process. I fell over someone that just fell on his back.

"I am sorry, I didn't see and…"

I tried to get up with my hands in the snow, beside his shoulders and suddenly I've stopped staring in almost completely white eyes.

The man just looked into my eyes and then with a severe and serious tone, he spoke to me:

"You!"

To be continued…

Well, this is a new story as you can see, and this is just the first chapter. And yes I know that I have to post the next chapters for the other stories but this idea just hit me and I had to write it down. Now, this is the first chapter so don't be harsh but be sincere and tell me what you think. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2:Spring

Very important note: In this chapter, any black haired boy isn't Sasuke Uchiha. He isn't in this chapter, he will appear later but the black haired boy is just another black haired boy.

If you lived your life peacefully and without many complications, there is always a first time for everybody and for everything.

I think this is the most ridiculous thought, when someone can even think and not to mention, to strongly believe that you will never be tempted by something 'bad', and then to continue to believe that you can walk away from it.

Well, to be sincere, I never thought about this kind of things myself, because I think I really am the kind of person that doesn't expects to be involved in something that happens 'unexpected'.

Well, to be more sincere, I did thought that this could happen, but this could happen to anyone, but myself, that maybe a friend, someday, might tell me this kind of story at a coffee or something like that, in a joke.

But, with my guard down and with my head up, standing in my own two legs, and with wide open eyes, that thought has crossed through my mind with the speed of sound, just because that friend doesn't exists, that friend may as well be me, because something has made me think about this, today.

Chapter 2: Spring

I guess that was the start and the reason, it has happened last year, almost two years. I was in my class; standing in my bank, when the class ended and the teacher has came beside my bank with a pile of books and papers in his hands.

It's hard to see his face because of the huge pile of things that he holds. He spoke to me with a very normal voice, like it is natural to ask this, and as usual, you can't really refuse a teacher. Even if I think that this it's the first time when I really want to refuse one.

"Can you do me a favor and carry these books to the apartment of teacher Yamamoto?"

"Yeah, sure."

"This are the keys, you know where it is?"

"Yes."

He gave me the books after he gave me the small key, and I wondered why from all the students in this class, he has chosen me to carry all this heavy stuff, when I really don't think that I look solid.

This school it's not just a school, many teachers and students live here. To be more explicit, this is an art school. It's a big old building where people: paint, sculpt, sing, photograph, make clothes, or in general, they all create something.

Well, it may be more than just one building because there it's a kind of hostel, not very far from school, very close if I could add.

And many other, but smaller buildings that are around and different minds with different talents are tested, or ateliers, where students stay after classes or even have the classes there.

In this school, you need to have a little talent for something; of course, you can go through this school like a duck through the water because you won't get your small tail wet, but it would be a shame if you ask me.

The teachers are the most normal and captivating and talented people, and I would feel very sad to have the bad luck to never have met them in this life. They make you want to do something, to make them proud, and they are very sincere when they criticize you.

The buildings are mostly green, cream, or grey, and some are a dark brown. But that doesn't matters too much, because most of them have very big windows. The grass and the flowers, the tress and the bushes, and even the vine had covered the buildings and what is around them.

Even so, there is pavement around the buildings, showing you the way to another building, even if it's in the woods, sometimes.

But even if there are more buildings, there is one that is the biggest and that is the entrance. Outside the school, right in front of the entrance, there is grey pavement and if you look at the left you will see grass and trees, and if you look at the right you will see the same thing.

The flowers are somehow not so many, there is more grass but when you find a path that is with flowers, well, let's say that the painters and the photographers have never complained.

The trees are mostly not so tall, some of them are, but the most of them are medium, and very normal but they are really good support for backs that want to relax a little.

I have my personal tree that is more far away from the people's eyes, and I always stay there, and there are many more trees around and it's very peaceful and beautiful, and I guess that is why I like it so much, and that place has always lightened by the sun and the grass is always plenty and a green that calms the eye.

I guess I could mention the lake too, but I didn't go there so often, the lake is clean and it's quiet, high old trees are around the lake and there are benches close and the atmosphere it's a little different, because the couples mostly go there, and I really didn't had time for this kind of stuff so I guess this is the reason why I didn't go there so often.

But without people, there would be just vegetation and buildings, it would be ugly, because outside the entrance of this school had always been people creating and talking, reading, or eating, or even just staying on the grass.

And when you enter you will see working people, almost always occupied, and more vegetation and buildings.

This place it's something, I got used with it, because this is the beginning of my third year, and I stay at the dorm too, and I don't think that I could be more pleased with a school.

If you stay still, and you look at the bigger cream building, and then you look at the left, you will see grass and trees and if you go deeper in the woods, you will find the lake.

If you look at the right, you will find exactly the same thing but if you go deeper, you will be exactly at the cherry tree in the middle of the field, and if you stay and if you look at the cherry tree, behind it, you will walk through the grass and you will find the dorm, and there is gray pavement in front of it, because if you go much to right of it, you will finally arrive at the central street, but if you go to the left you will go back to the school, but you will walk on the pavement, not on the grass

As I said, there is pavement at the middle, going to the entrance of the school and if you go behind, on the pavement outside the school, stay staring at the cream building and then turn around and go forward, much more than I could estimate, then you will find the central street again.

There are two connections with the outside world and that it's the central street because you won't hear the cars from the school, you will hear the birds singing, you will hear the musicians singing, the machines of sculpting, the utensils on different materials, and the people speaking.

But as you walk to the central street, the trees become bigger and higher, I guess I've realized, after all these years that all those circles of fields are surrounded by high scary strong and maybe old trees.

But right now, I am in the building, that is in the middle of the circle of the buildings, at the ground floor, and I am in front of the door of Yamamoto's small apartment.

Small, because it's impossible for a apartment in a school to be big, usually, from what I know, it has one big room as you enter, and that it's the kitchen and the living room, and at right or at the left it's a room, sometimes in both sides, but mostly there is just one room and in the other side a bathroom. I've been in Yamamoto's apartment a few times before because I have him as a teacher and he showed me some books and we talked about a project and about our life in general.

It's really hard to try to open the door with a tiny key, that is in my pocket, and with all the heavy stuff in my hands. But I don't trust myself to be able to pick up the stuff from the ground if I let them there to open the door, but some of them have fell on the floor, lucky that just papers have fell and not books, and in the end I gave up and I put them down.

I wondered a little about the reason why Mr. Yamamoto has locked the door up and down. But even so, I quietly opened the door, and I've picked up with all my strength, the heavy books and papers.

I entered and I've closed the door with the help of one hand and my foot, without making noisy sounds. His apartment is not very different, as you enter, there is a wall at the right and on the same wall, the bathroom door, and if you go a little, because there is a little hall, you will see the kitchen and you will be in it, and then, if you still look at the windows, at the left, there is his bedroom.

I've finally managed to put the pile and the tiny key on the wooden table that is supposed to be for the kitchen and that it's settled beside the window that it's almost connected with the white wall.

I put them down and I sigh because I never thought that it could be so hard to carry something to a destination that isn't very far, but walking with this stuff on the stairs gave me a hard time anyway.

But, immediately after I sigh and stared at the kitchen furniture a little, I decided to go back, but I heard a voice from the Yamamoto's bedroom.

I've decided that it was my imagination, but decided otherwise when I heard it again. Maybe, I've never fell in love or stuff like that, but I am not stupid to don't know what I've heard and that was a moan made by pleasure.

"God! I can't..! Ah!"

I thought that it might be stupid for me to go and look, because it's absolutely obvious what is happening in that room.

I don't know whose voice is what I hear, but what made me curious is the fact that the voice was from a man, not from a woman.

And if the man is satisfied by the woman, it might be odd for the woman to take the control and a man to lose the control and to make that high sound, or I am sure it is possible but at least, I've never felt like that.

I've made a step forward and then at my left, prepared to go to the entrance door, to get out and to forget about what I've just heard.

"Don't! Ah!"

I've heard it again and I've begun to think that I will never forget that voice, and then I realized that the door is a little open, not more than one or two centimeters though.

But I am three or four steps in its left and I couldn't move, I just stood there unmoving, and just then, I heard another voice.

"Shh…"

The commercial which I saw this morning came into my mind. An impossible beautiful perfect woman and she put one of her long fingers at her lips and then she whispered: 'Shh'.

But this voice it's different, it was indeed of a man and much more, it was a whisper, a 'shh' that you make when you want to stop a child from crying, a 'shh' that you might say when someone is sad and says things that made him or her cry or made him or her feel bad, and you will say this low and merciful 'shh', and then you will embrace him or her slowly caressing her or his back or head.

No. I thought better for just one second and I decided. This 'shh' is indeed, said to someone which is pain, I imagine a child that cries because his ice cream has fell on the cold pavement at an amusement park and he cries because he barely managed to convince the one that is with him, to buy that ice cream, and now, he puts his small hands on his small eyes with sensitive skin and he lets the tears to fall, and the delicate small mouth to say sounds that have no end and no words.

And then, a woman comes beside him and put her hand on his back, slowly caressing it and asking what's wrong, and then the child explains while he still cries, and he makes muffled sounds, he explains that his ice cream has fell on the ground, by accident.

Then the woman, embraces the little body and then she says the encouraging 'shh' meaning that it's okay and to stop crying, and then she will say that she will buy him another ice cream.

The child stops crying and then the woman wipes away his tears, kisses his forehead , then the little child lets his body to be lead by the woman's hand to the place where an ice cream can be bought.

Of course, I imagined this in seconds, because the sounds didn't stop. I made another step but this time, I've made a step forward to the door of the bedroom, looking at the crack that could show me what happens in the other room.

I could not move. My eyes are wide open and my hands are closed in tight fists, and my mouth is half open.

Don't get me wrong. I could move, I'm not injured, and nobody is holding me here, or forcing me to look in that room, to stay like this. But my legs don't listen to me, my eyes won't close or look somewhere else, my hands are sweaty with no reason and I feel the urge to hold my palm in a fist, but I don't want to hit anything but myself because I don't walk away.

It's just is like this, and not to mention, that my half open mouth may be the reason of the shock, even if I've realized what happened before I looked, or because I just didn't even realized that I have my mouth half open just until I wanted to swallow the lump that has formed in my neck and then, my mouth returned to the same state.

I stared at two men, on a bed. The window's curtains were drawn, but they are thin, because the sun could still enter. The windows were at the very right, and at the very left, a big closet has covered the window. The room was half lighted but it is afternoon, so the sun is very powerful right now, and that explains a lot.

The bed is in the left side, but it isn't stuck to the left wall, there are 100 or even more centimeters away from it.

The bed is big and for two persons to sleep in it and it's positioned so that the wall that is right in front, has the beginning of the bed struck to it, and the bed comes long to the center of the room, to the other wall, that it's the wall with the door, but it's not big enough to touch the wall, it has more than 100 or 120 centimeters distance. I've wondered myself for a second, why would Mr. Yamamoto has a bed for two person, but I let the thought aside when other had sounds came from one of the men's mouth.

One man is thinner than the other one, and it's held down on the bed, on its back by the other man that is over him and he looks stronger than the one that it's held down.

The man that it's above the other man has long hair and is caught in a ponytail. Long brown hair falls from his back to his right while he licks the other's man nipple.

The other man seems smaller and he has black short hair. I stared at his face and I realized that I don't know him and that none of them is teacher Yamamoto, but the question is why they are in his apartment and doing this?

The brown haired man lowered his head and he stared at the bulge in the black haired man pants and he put his right hand on it. The black haired man moaned immediately at the touch.

I swallowed the lump that has formed in my neck again. I stared with even more wide open eyes when I realized their positions.

The man with brown long hair holds the control, while the other one receives everything. The black haired man has no shirt on him, while the other has all his clothes on him.

But I finished to think about it when I suddenly looked at the short black haired man that has moaned louder and I stared wider when I saw the long brown haired man that caresses the black haired man pants, and then the brown haired man looked at the black haired man's face and then at the bulge in his pants and then he put the hair that fell on his face, behind his ear with an elegance that couldn't fail to surprise me.

I swallowed again when I stared at him while he pulled the zipper of the pants slowly down. After that, he took off the boxers the black haired man wore along with the pants. Although, he didn't took the pants and the boxers completely off.

I stared as he pumped the black haired man member and then putting his mouth where his hands had been. The black haired man moaned, and then he tilted his head back from the pleasure he receives, colliding his head with the wall.

I blinked for a moment and then I thought that it's time for me to leave, but I could not close my eyes, not to mention to move my legs. The brown haired man has stopped and then he came up to the other and he kissed his skin from the member, to his chest and then licked and bit his neck while he rubbed his member along with his, while he was still completely dressed.

He kissed him and bites his lips when the other man pulled his long hair. The black haired man has put his hands on his back and tried to get rid of the shirt he wore and then, still on the bed, on his knees, he took the other's shirt off and he threw it to his right.

I thanked God for a second in my mind because if he had thrown it to his left, he could have see me, but then, I reminded myself that I'm not watching TV, even if I don't watch this kind of stuff. This is real, and I have to leave, but I can't. Instead, I stared at the well muscled back and beautiful skin.

I can see the face of the black haired man, but the brown haired man's face it's hidden by his hair mostly, and what I saw felt like it was not enough. His back is what I can see the best.

The long brown haired man has put his hand on the short black haired man, and he lifted his chin and he kissed him and I saw their tongues outside their mouths, the kiss made me realize that my mouth is more than half open.

The brown haired man has broke the kiss, and he moved down, biting and kissing the skin until he arrived at the pants and he undressed the black haired man completely.

Then he opened his belt and then his pants and he was naked too. I really begun to think that I should leave now or it would be too late. But my legs didn't budge, not even a millimeter.

I stared, as the brown haired man had put his fingers in the black haired man's mouth and the other has licked them. The brown haired man had put the fingers in the black haired man, and he moved them in and out slowly, while the black haired man just made low moans.

The brown haired man kissed him again while putting his right hand on his neck, and I thought that for a moment I could feel the feeling that the black haired man could have from those pale thin long fingers that caressed his neck.

I swallowed again but this time harder and then I closed my mouth, and it left my neck dry and my eyes opened wider and more attentive when the long brown haired man had entered in the other man, again and again, the man begun to make muffled moans and then louder.

But the black haired man seems exhausted and I saw white substance on him quickly after he titled his head back with closed eyes.

And then, the brown haired man has spoken to him:

"You're done?"

"Yeah." The black haired man has responded, almost breathless.

The moving had stopped and the black haired man was about to move and to get off the bed.

I hesitated and titled my right leg a little back and I was just about to run when the brown haired man stopped the black haired man from getting off the bed. And the brown haired man spoke again:

"I am not."

I hardened in place when the brown haired man has changed their positions completely.

The face of the brown haired man is now the one I see the best. The man is on the other side of the bed and he holds down the black haired man as he stood in his knees with his head down in the white sheet, as the black haired man thrusted into him harder and quicker.

His pale long hands are on the waist of the other man, holding him, guiding him, but just when I stared at his hands, my gaze changed radically and my mouth has closed again, while I felt watched.

I looked at the brown haired man's face and then I focused at his eyes that were watching me, with no really surprise.

I was sure that the door isn't completely open, but if I can see him, he can see me too.

I was completely sure that he sees me when I searched in his eyes for something, and he searched into my eyes for something too. Like the world stopped in those positions, he didn't stop his thrusts but his eyes are watching me in the same time.

I didn't know what I felt a second ago, or what I should feel right now. Caught? Guilty? Or disgusted by myself for watching all those things or disgusted of what they are doing?

But I did not felt any of those, almost nothing.

But then he opened his mouth and everything came into my mind and I realized that I've held my breath while I stared into his eyes, and I let my lungs to breathe again, and all the reality that I've lost while staring into his white eyes. I've turned around and I've ran out of the apartment and I didn't looked back, I closed the door but not completely, I don't care anymore.

I ran until I was outside the building, and I heard Naruto calling my name in the process. But I didn't want to look back.

I ran outside the school, until I was in the dorm, in my room, and with the door locked.

I sit on the floor, with my back against the door and staring at my own bed.

I realized what I just saw and I nodded my head, right and left, I want to stop my mind from seeing everything again and again.

I've stood like that and I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to do a bath and to see my own body, I didn't want to stay on my own bed and so, I did not move, but after a while, someone knocked at the door.

"Gaara, are you there?"

I quickly recognized Naruto's voice and I quickly opened the door, frightened by something.

"Hey, why did you run like that?"

"I am sorry; I had something to do...quickly."

"Like what?"

"I …don't know."

I've looked at his hands and realized that he has pencils and papers in them.

"Well, do you feel ill? You look pale, and your cheeks are red."

"No, I don't."

I've forced a smile but it came out fake, but I hope Naruto didn't noticed.

"Well, I have to paint something for tomorrow; do you want to come with me to the tree?"

"Yeah."

I got out and I locked the door. I walked on the grey pavement and then on the green grass. The cherry tree it's the most beautiful when it's spring.

We sat against his trunk and I stared at the sky while Naruto draws quietly, for the first time I thought that the only times when Naruto's mouth is closed is when he draws. I guess it's a miracle that something can make him to shut up for a long time, but that only makes me realize how much he loves to draw and to paint.

I stared at the sky and then at the grass, I feel small. For a moment I forgot what happened today and I didn't know why I ran away. I don't know those two men; it wasn't my business, but those eyes…

I sigh and I thought that I should just forget, but it seemed impossible, but then, I realized that I really am small, a dot on the surface of this earth, the fact that there are other people doing things that I never did and probably never will do, the world which I have never saw, frightened me. That little piece of their world has made me run away with all my might.

I was upset on myself more than I ever was, I should have ran from the first moment I realized what is happening, but I didn't do it.

I stared at Naruto that still draws and I've made a note in my head and I thought it loud like I am shouting in my mind: 'I can't tell this kind of story to anyone, not even as a joke!'

And then, I rose up and I stared at the wide sky while pink petals have flew beside me, because of the wind that blows, and then I've realized that the spring has just begun.

To be continued…

Well… chapter 2 finished. This might be the only yaoi in it… kidding!( really just a joke but I am a little ashamed because of what I've wrote) But I don't want Gaara at people's doors and things like that and it will be a long way to go…

Oh, and gaarafreak89141, thank you very much for your review, I tried harder because you are reading this, I hope you still read it and I hope you like it.

Now…any opinions about this chapter? Someone..?


	3. Chapter 3:Trips

As soon as I woke up, I realized that something bothers me and so, I woke up because of the sun which bathes me so early in the morning.

I rubbed my eyes and then I rose up but still in bed, and I stared outside.

A sunny day may be a good sign for others but for me, it is a bad sign.

I always thought that the weather, no, the whole nature laughs in these days. That the humans are worse than in cold days; that the nature wants to fool you and to think that it will be a great day just because the sun can burn your skin.

I don't really like the sun, but I don't hate it so much that I won't go outside because of it.

Even so, my night has been white.

I slept just one hour or so, because I woke up immediately because of the sun that was in my eyes.

So, now, isn't this just another reason to hate the sun?

Chapter 3: Trips

"Hey! Gaara!"

Naruto came running on the pavement at the school entrance but still outside, I answered him when he was beside me.

"Hey…"

I yawned immediately and I had put my hand on my mouth, I can feel tears at the end of my eyes because of how tired I am right now.

"Haven't you slept?"

"Not really."

I yawned the second time in that minute and he looked like he became annoyed.

"I really thought that today will be an awesome day, and you just yawn."

"Why did you think that?"

"Because it is very sunny, haven't you noticed?"

"Believe me I did."

'This is just the perfect example of a person that is fooled by the nature.'

I just thought that and the wind blew suddenly and very strong but for a very short time.

'You must be laughing hard, huh?' I thought, staring at a tree.

"Are you listening?"

I quickly focused on Naruto again.

"Oh, sorry Naruto, but I don't think I will go to classes today."

"Oh come on, at least tell me why!" It wasn't anything like a question but he gestured with his hands in exasperation.

"I have no mood."

"Who the hell do you think that it's in the mood for school? But that doesn't means…"

He stopped speaking when he saw me walking away.

"Oh, come on!"

"Sorry! Tomorrow!"

"You and your mood! Neither I!"

He yelled while I think I've completely disappeared from his gaze, and I think I saw him walking to the entrance of the school, muttering something in a low voice.

I am now on the left side, the field that has my tree. I walked on the green grass until I arrived at it and sat down on the grass, with my back against its trunk.

I looked around and I realized that there are no people around. I really am the only one who doesn't wants to go to classes today?

'Oh, well.'

I feel like I'm drunk, the sun covers my eyes, and it almost hurts me, so I closed them. The wind that gently moves the grass and then stops, makes me feel the scent which made me completely relax, the trunk is not hard and painful, that is why I like this tree, and the silence and the nature that probably is watching me right now, and it laughs, because she won.

But while staying like this, I realized that I don't mind, not anymore.

And so, I fell asleep once again.

…

My sleep was dreamless at the beginning, maybe because I am too tired to dream right now.

But even so, after a while, I actually begun to dream, and in my dream, I felt touched.

I had felt a hand on my lips and then on my neck. I had felt a leg brushing a little one of my legs and then, I had felt thumbs behind my right ear, after that; I could concentrate just on those thumbs that are on my ear, skinny long thumbs.

And after a short time, I could feel something different on my lips, they were parted.

My lips were now quite separated, or so it seems when I felt something warm and moist in my mouth.

I reacted with my own tongue and what was even weirder was that I opened my eyes, very little but I could still feel the thumbs on my ear shell, the other hand on my neck, a leg gently against my own, and my tongue dancing with another tongue.

Four or five seconds had taken me to realize that I was awake, this isn't a dream, and that someone is kissing me.

I wanted to refuse to respond as quickly as I realized.

But is like the one that is over me also knew that I am awake, and he is now more determinate to kiss me than he was when I was asleep.

I tried to push him away but I couldn't, I couldn't move myself.

I had realized that I am not against the trunk anymore, I am on the grass. The wind still blows gently and the sun is still shining brightly.

The one that is above me is not a woman. It is impossible to be a woman.

But I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore while the kiss became deeper.

The hand from my ear moved to my shirt and under it, and touched one of my nipples, and I don't know if I could hate myself more because without to realize until I heard myself, I moaned.

I wanted to do something to push him away, but he has ended the kiss while he bit my lower lip. I can taste some blood.

I opened my eyes, annoyed at myself even more because I closed them and stared at almost white eyes, at brown long hair, at pale skin, and separated pink lips.

I recognized him immediately; after all, the memory of those two didn't let me to sleep long enough to never let me forget their faces, and the most hated face, was his.

For a reason which I don't understand, the other one isn't so important for me.

'Not that he is!'

The way some wires of hair had fell on his side fell in the same way it have fell when he was with that man and now, I am under him.

"Get off!" I said.

"No." He responded and I was completely amazed by how confident and calm his voice sounds.

"What do you mean no?"

"You don't really want me to, don't you?" He said in a really low tone, close to me.

And he really has made his point known when he played with my nipples again.

I couldn't help but to blush a little but then, I was too angry with myself.

"If you want to have your neck on your shoulders in the next minute, you will get off!"

He seemed to be deaf to me, just because he isn't responding at all.

"God!" I almost yelled.

I pushed and even hit him a little, I struggled with my entire body under him but it seemed like nothing I could do would move him, I felt without strength.

After more than 10 seconds of struggling, I gave up and spoke:

"You must be kidding me!"

He said: "Hm…" and then he smiled.

His 'hm' was said in a voice that I never heard before, more like a moan. And his smile has made me freak out more, it was a smile that was more than satisfied and amused.

'He is amused by me?'

"Are you tired?" He asked me with a mocking tone but still low and with the amused smile still present on his face.

'He is definitely amused!' I thought, annoyed.

"Listen to me! I want you to get off now! I don't care…"

My words seemed to be token by the wind as he smiled at me with those big eyes, he leaned closer and closer to me as I spoke, and he nodded his head up and down in affirmation at what I say but it's like he doesn't hears me. Just sees me and he couldn't care less about what I say…

"Do you hear me?"

I shouted but it was like it had passed through his ears, instead he is one millimeter away from my lips, but just then he spoke:

"Yes."

After answering, he has kissed me more deeply than before, I felt forced but I couldn't breathe anymore, and without even realizing, I responded.

'Forced to respond.' I thought in the back of my mind but still…

From the dominant and rough kiss, it ends up to be slow and deep.

He was just colliding to my lips and occasionally licked my lips or touched his tongue with my tongue.

I just couldn't stop.

But all the white that was around us has disappeared as I opened my eyes and stared in front of me, at the grass and trees in complete shock.

I instantly put my thumb on my lower lip, and it was all confirmed, nothing different on it.

"Tell me this is a joke…" I said, confused.

"What is a joke?"

I really didn't observe that Naruto is beside me until he spoke.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Even if I was even more shocked when I was complete took off guard, my voice is somehow calm.

I stared at him, and I realized that he draws beside me.

"Did I wake you?" He asked in a low tone.

"No but…" I said and I looked at him, waiting.

I couldn't finish my sentence, I didn't felt like talking and he just got the hint.

He just sighed and spoke: "The class finished so I came looking for you but you were sleeping so I started to draw."

"Oh." I said quickly after he finished.

I realized that he will skip the day with me, after all, when I skip; I always come here so there is no surprise that he found me but still…

I looked at him, while he is looking in front of him, somewhere I can't see, he looks sad and it worries me even though I tried hard to ignore the red flags that wanted to get my attention about the dream that just ended.

"Something happened?"

I asked Naruto, slightly worried because his smile was sad, his eyes dreamy and that wasn't a good sign.

"No, in fact I was wondering about your dream." He said very calm, almost too calm.

'He can see my dreams?' I thought.

I panicked in a second but then I took it logically and my voice came out normal.

"My dream?"

"Yeah, the reason why I did not wake you up when I came was that you were smiling, while you were asleep, you seemed...happy."

His voice was low and calm, even if I could swear that he was talking to himself more than he was talking to me.

"I was…?"

It pained me looking at him with that sad expression and low voice; I wanted to know the reason why he was sad about me smiling. But then I was totally shocked that I was actually smiling when I dreamt something that should be forbidden.

"Yeah."

But just when I was about to ask him why he was so sad, I looked at his personal notebook with white sheets in it, and I realized why he is so sad.

I stared at my clock and then at the sky.

He has been here for 34 minutes, and the sheet is completely white.

He isn't a quiet person; he is quiet just when he draws but even when he can't draw.

I always get sad when he has a blockage. He really gets depressed.

His bright smiles turn into sad smiles. And it always hurts me.

And I actually felt ashamed. My dream was nothing to be smiling about. I saw two men on a bed, having intimate actions, and not to mention that I couldn't move. And now, I dreamt myself doing the same thing with one of them.

And then to find out that I smiled while I dreamt that and my best friend has a blockage and he sees me so happy because of something that isn't a reason to be happy about at all.

'How could I explain all this to you, Naruto?' I wanted to ask him but I just thought it while I stared at his white sheet.

"Hey…You want to eat something?" He asked me but with no enthusiasm.

"Sure. Ramen?" I responded and for a moment I thought I sound like him now.

He was silent, every time I would ask him this, he would have shouted after I could even finish the word.

"Naruto, what's wrong?" I asked concerned.

He has stopped starring forward and he looked at me with bright blue wide eyes.

"I can't draw." He answered in a dead tone and I could tell that he thought this word in his mind more than I could estimate.

"Why?" I asked rather quickly.

"I don't know." He said while staring to the ground.

A sad voice, like a broken voice, his words ended abruptly.

"You really have nothing you want to draw?" I asked, even if I am thinking of a way to help him in the same time.

"Nope." He answered like it was a fact.

"You want inspiration." I said more to myself, and that was a bigger fact.

He laughed at my worried ways, I never have been the one who was trying to have a conversation or to make the other feel better, but Naruto was my special case.

"Inspiration?" He smiled and almost laughed saying those words.

But his smile soon faded and he spoke in a low, deep and sad way.

"Yeah, I need …inspiration."

"Then let's go."

I stood up almost instantly and rearranged my clothes.

Naruto has closed his notebook and put it in his big orange backpack and rose up too, doing the same thing.

Then we walked outside the school grounds.

One thing I knew for sure, to convince someone to drive us there would be a complete mistake, the times we go in the town with friends or anything like that, we take a teacher or our 'friend' that comes here sometimes and has a car.

But in this situation, a cab is the best, still, it's hard to find one here.

So here we are, on the highway, making signs with our hands to the cab's that pass beside us and I can hear Naruto that swears in a low voice.

I can tell that this is not a normal blockage and that is why he is so sad and somehow desperate.

But as I said, I know about his blockages, I know all about them. They can be innocent ones or severe.

And when they are severe, we are on this highway desperately searching for cabs.

What I know about Naruto is that he isn't one of those painters that can get inspired from everything, even if there isn't someone that can really be inspired by anyone but Naruto is inspired by almost nothing.

The only paintings that can inspire him it's a single gallery that he has found when he was wandering on the streets.

Years ago, he really didn't know he had a talent for drawing, he had told me that when he saw that one gallery, it has made him want to paint.

He really sounded very glad when he told me that he was searching for something he can do to express himself for a long time, he tried to sing or to sculpt, even photographing, but none of them seem to work for him.

So in that very day, he stood in that gallery and stared at those paintings, the day after that, he came again but this time he took some sheets and crayons with him.

Though, he never had been paying much attention in art classes, nor did he really put much effort on them then, he was amazed by himself.

What he draw looked great, at least from his view then, he even still has that painting.

"It was my first painting. Its special." that is what he told me.

Though, I saw it and even from my opinion, for someone who never has drawn again, seriously, it looked magnificent, and not to mention that he had made it at a very young age.

And the most annoying and sincere teacher from this school is the art teacher, Naruto's teacher, that has admitted that he has talent.

Which, if you met him, the teacher, it would seem like a miracle for him to say that; he even had once said that Naruto is a rare kind of a painter, and that is another reason why the others don't really like him, don't talk to him, at first it has hurt him, but then he meet me and I opened his eyes, they are jealous on his talent.

In that time and until today, I thought it was stupid, to ignore someone just because he is better than you, I could understand how he feels but just the concept annoyed me.

Talent isn't something you should hide just to be liked, talent is something that should be seen by others and that should make them like you.

Even if, this school has many contests and even so, Naruto has won many of them.

"Gaara!"

I put my thoughts aside when I seen clearly in front of me again, Naruto yelling at me, keeping a yellow door of a cab for me to come.

I ran and put myself on the farthest seat, and then he did the same.

While I stared at him, he is staring out the window, into space.

But I can sense that he is not just sad, there is something else.

Just when I was about to look outside my window, he spoke:

"I wonder if he made new ones." He said in a low voice, still looking out the window.

"What do you mean?" I questioned him, a little confused.

I know very well where that gallery is, I know very well that the gallery it's old, and there are paintings from when Naruto was very young, he even showed me the one that inspired him when he first came there.

The one that made them, though, we never met. There is one painting or maxim two new ones per year.

I understood that the paintings are liked but the one that has made them, didn't make painting his job.

Naruto is always searching for the new paintings when he gets there.

"I mean that…" He stopped his words abruptly again and he bit his nail somehow absent. "…I don't know."

He finished his sentence with a statement that he had made on his own.

When he bites his nails it means that he is nervous, but now, he seems more than that.

He is sad, I can see that, but what has made me worried was something else, he is not just sad; he seems somehow scared of something.

"You think that you won't be inspired if there won't be any new paintings?"

I don't know anything about the painter, Naruto has told me that he searched many times on the internet and even books, there isn't anything more than his name, a photo with him, and some paintings.

He is not old, not at all, I understood he has the same age as us, and that really surprised me.

But young or not, it doesn't matters. He didn't paint any painting this year, and I know that because Naruto had another blockage about some months ago but now it's different.

I can tell that if there are no new paintings, he won't get out whole.

I had been absorbed by my thoughts and then I looked at him, he wasn't looking at the window anymore.

His face was pale, his thumb was just hanging on his lower lip, and I don't think he even realizes how he looks now.

Shocked.

He wouldn't recognize that this is what scares him.

I think he even ignored the possibility of that happening.

And now, that my words are sinking within him, the fear gets to the surface.

But his shocked face didn't last long and he put his hand down and closed his eyes.

"I hope not."

I can tell that from the moment my words are sinking within him completely, he already accepted the possibility of a very long, and the worse case, a permanent blockage.

But he didn't stared at the cab's couch very much that the cars around us, the noise and the town's polluted air has welcomed us when the driver begun to swear someone from other car, while he pulled down his window.

We both stared quietly at him, not really surprised by anything more than the fact that we didn't realized that we almost arrived to our destination.

So we gave him the money and got out because the gallery was just a few blocks away.

I can still remember that old street, with the gallery in a tiny corner of it, with a small wooden door.

So as quickly as we passed the last corner, I touched Naruto's shoulder while we walked close to the door, trying to tell him to calm down, but he smiled a little and I was glad for a second, but I could still tell that the tension which has build into him didn't disappeared.

To our luck or of Naruto's unconscious synchronizing with this gallery that is open.

I stared at the paintings while following him as he walked deeper into the gallery, trying to get to the end of them, searching for a new painting. And I was a little sad by the fact that we are the only ones in here, no visitors.

I could tell from the way Naruto looked at the paintings is like he knew every one of them, it was like he was at home, he walked in a way I never saw him anywhere else but in this place.

So when we arrived at the end of it, Naruto just sigh.

I was afraid to look up, but there was something new indeed, there was an empty space, where a painting should be, and what made me more annoyed was that a title was put under the space where the painting should be but the painting was not there.

I was almost afraid to look at Naruto, but in the end I did it, only to see him walking away from it to the man that works here.

"Excuse me, Yuuta!"

Naruto has yelled at the old man before he arrived in front of him. I could tell he was nervous and not to mention that Yuuta seemed glad to see him before he realized that he is attacked by Naruto himself.

"What's with the last painting? Was it stolen or something?"

Naruto seemed desperate, from my point of view at least, and I would tell him to don't speak like that to him, but the old man just smiled. Naruto knows Yuuta from the first time he came here, so I don't say anything because I came here after a long time that happened.

But still, I came beside Naruto and stared at the quiet old man. And until Naruto could shout more at the innocent man, he spoke:

"Well, as always, he should have put a new painting this year but…"

We waited for him to speak but it took long enough for both of us to feel the silence as it begun to transform into suspense.

The man took a few steps closer to the missing painting and Naruto spoke just when I thought he will explode from anger:

"But?"

The man said nothing and until we could actually complain, he finally spoke again:

"He is stuck."

I know I should look at the person that is talking but I looked at Naruto that has closed his eyes and took a good amount of air in his lungs and let it out after a few seconds. It was like the world crashed down on him.

The small boy has opened his eyes after a few seconds and looked at Yuuta.

Yuuta just looked at the gray floor and then made a few steps to let Naruto pass, while Naruto has put his right hand on the empty space, where the painting should be.

"Why?"

His voice wasn't angry anymore, all the tension seemed to disappear but it has been replaced by something else, something I can't describe.

Yuuta looked at Naruto with a pure sad expression, and he spoke:

"I'm sorry Naruto, I don't know."

The man responded and Naruto just nodded.

"Thank you, Yuuta."

Naruto said with a sad voice but sincere. The old man seemed content while he walked back to his chair. He sat down and looked at Naruto with his brown eyes.

Though his hair is white and short, he is very thin, tall and somehow, he has grace, but he seems weak when he wants to sit down, once, when I was really paying attention to him and Naruto was in a good mood, when he brought me here for the first time because he wanted to show me what has made him paint, and not because he had a blockage and we talked to him, his eyes were full of life, I could see him when he was young, a really fine man.

His brown eyes seem sad now because of Naruto, but the spark hasn't died.

We are looking at Naruto that hasn't moved his legs from that spot, with his hand still on the empty spot.

"Naruto…"

I said with an uncertain voice, I never saw him so down.

For the first time I thought that these two men are really connected, they both have the most horrible blockages they ever had and they need to see each other after all this time.

But before I could say more, Naruto finally turned around with a different expression on his face and with a light in his eyes that told me that he has figured something out, and I couldn't tell what, so I remained silent, and amazed when I saw Naruto walking with confidence in front of Yuuta, putting his hands on his shoulders and I could tell that Yuuta was surprised himself.

"Yuuta, do you know where Sasuke lives?"

To be continued…

God! Another chapter! A long one too, well, so tell me what you think.

And about the chapter's name, It was more harder to decide it out than the chapter, but it is with this name because they are both having a trip, Gaara in his 'dreams' and to the gallery is more of Naruto's trip, I hope you liked it.

I will try to write the other one faster, so sorry for taking so long, but thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 4:Sunrise

Have you ever thought that fate really is involved in life?

Some might have called it inexistent, and say that it is all about a plain coincidence.

I was once one of them too, even if somehow fate has proved me otherwise, twice or even for three times.

I could name everything as a simple coincidence too, and to ignore everything that might add somehow poetic words to it.

But then, someone please explain to me, why all my life has been twisted, and completely changed all the time, why all the people I know, and they are not many, but they are special to me, all of them and all of this, I have, I love, I met them from the simple coincidence?

And even so, why they are the only ones that are still with me?

Chapter 4: Sunrise

I was completely without any clue.

I just fallowed him without asking anything. But for one thing, I was grateful, he is full with determination, full with strength and hope. All that I wish is that all of his feelings to don't be in vain.

"Almost there…" Naruto said for the third time.

The sun has almost vanished; it is the twilight, a beautiful one at that. We are somewhere where we don't know, I had told him for the fourth time that we got lost, but he said that we didn't and so, I still walk after him. I called it : 'walking like a blind'.

"Come on Naruto, give up already, we are lost, let's go back and…" I said with a pleading voice but he soon interrupted me with a strong and confident voice.

"No." He said it like he was trying to convince himself more than to convince me. But after other two or three steps on the gray pavement, he turned around and looked at me, with a serious but with a hurt expression on his face in the same time.

"You know…you can go back, this is all about me, and you don't have to come with me. And I know you are tired, more than I am, you didn't sleep these days..."

I wish I could just put my hand on his mouth somehow in the middle of his sentence, but I just stared at him in disbelief.

My mind throws just red signals while he talks.

'I am your best friend and you seem exactly like a lost puppy in an unknown town and you want me to let you here, all alone?'

I thought it aloud in my mind, but nothing came out, I just looked at him and I've made a step closer to him, and I stared in blue bright tired eyes.

"You know that I could never do that."

He smiled as soon as I finished my sentence, and I smiled too. And just like that, he turned around and continued to walk.

The truth is that I've questioned myself for one hundred times, the simple question: Where are we?

And somehow, ironically and sarcastically, my mind answered one time or twice.

The sun still lets us see around us but the lanterns of the streets are already lit, but I just wonder how much they could help us if we keep walking on these streets, with no idea where we are and after the night will finally cover everything, with no idea how to go back.

All that we have is a small sheet, with a neat writing, wrote by Yuuta.

What I understood from Yuuta was that the painter isn't exactly the social type and that he lives alone, and that he is the one that goes to his house and takes the painting.

Something in my mind yelled quickly after that, just from the thought that the man or boy, is too lazy to bring his own painting himself and don't let the already old man to do it.

But I closed my mouth before the words could go out and I let it be.

Somehow, these streets aren't for the poor people. But what annoys me at this neighborhood is that there are blocks and houses, all together.

Naruto holds the indications and I think that I should have thought about it twice earlier, when I agreed that he will take us there.

Thinking again about it now, I realize why I let him, that spark in his eyes, the determination and the impatience, which was in his voice too.

The streets are so neat that I begin to wonder if this is a rich neighborhood and the reason why the houses don't look exaggeratedly expensive, even if they still look expensive, even the blocks, might be the reason that they are rich but modest or something.

But while, I looked around and I hoped that this twilight will last at least two hours even if it would be impossible, I realized that as further we go, the nature comes back.

Because when we first arrived in this 'zone', which is one with few trees, and an incredibly well cut grass, and now and there, some flowers in pots, and I mean they are enormous.

And now, the grass is still well cut but there are bushes too and many tress, and while walking looking around, I suddenly collided with Naruto that is walking in front of me, accidentally of course, because he suddenly stopped.

"What?"

I asked, while I stared at him, while he stared at the sheet from Yuuta and then at a block.

The block is indeed somehow different, but still the same as others in the same time.

At least the color of light brown combined with a dark brown is the same but still, it seems different. We walked until we were under the block's lamp because it is covered.

And then I realized why this block looks different, it has three or four floors, the rest had at least seven, and it looks like someone lives in it, the rest ones are so neat, so perfect, so fake that it looks like everything it's occupied by ghosts.

The block is somehow positioned different from the others too, is not like you go from the street in front and it's the door of it, no, you have to go to the left and there is the door in the middle but somehow in the corner, the lamp above our heads and behind us is a little garden with a small black fence, somehow, even the fence looks more normal than the others.

The fence surrounds the light grey stone floor, which is in front of the block's entrance, and I think I saw the gate somewhere but it's closed anyway.

"Here it is." Naruto said with an inner voice, I stared at him, somehow happy that we found it.

The twilight is still present with the dim light of the lamp, it looks perfect. I know that these two humans need to meet.

But Naruto just stares at the sheet again and then at the small intercom at the door's right.

'202.' I thought in my mind while he formed it with a hesitant hand. The intercom has made its sounds, calling and requesting for the owner of its flat to answer.

We stood there in its music until it stopped. He tried again, for the third time, then for the fourth time. And then, Naruto didn't take his hand off of the intercom, nor did he blinked and for a moment, I thought that he didn't even breathed all this time, until a sigh came out of his throat.

'The painter isn't home.' The thought has almost made me say to go home and to try again in another day.

But I looked at Naruto, while he closed his eyes, took his hand from the intercom, seemed to breathe, he folded the sheet and put it in his pocket and then with a low sound, he slammed his back and head against the wall and sat on the ground, staring in front of him while his hands hugged his knees.

But I just stood at his right, staring at him. In absolute silence.

His lips are in a straight line. It's like I'm not even here, and to be more sincere, it's like he isn't here either. He seems deep in thought and more than anything, adamant.

"Nar…"

His name got stuck in my throat and all the words which I intended to say to him, when he looked at me with wide open blue eyes. I know that no matter what I say, it will just bring him more down that this, than his fear and then, his only remaining and shattering hope.

So I closed my mouth again and he looked in the same spot like before, while I sat myself down beside him.

I think that more than 20 minutes had passed or even 40, maybe an hour. However, the twilight it's over. The night brought the sound of the crickets from the small garden or even from the other little nature spaces in front of the blocks and houses.

But I just stood there, with my back and head against the block's wall, looking in a point that didn't exists, with the passing minutes or even hours, Naruto didn't said a word, and so, I kept the silence too.

But with the passing minutes or hours, he didn't stare in front of him; he now stares at the ground.

I can't tell that this action is from how tired his neck might be, or because he is a little disappointed.

But while I am staring in front of me at an ordinary dark green leaf from a bush, my eyes became more and more tired with the unchanging scenery.

With the sounds of the crickets and with the gently blows of the wind, it isn't very cold, but I wonder if Naruto had clothes in his orange backpack that we had left at Yuuta, at the gallery.

With that thought, my eyes are slowly closing and my whole body and mind become numb, slowly but surely, falling into a dreamless sleep.

This can't be happening.' I thought for the hundredth time, while I'm still looking at the boring ground. After a second of two of pure silence, at least outside of my mind, I felt something on my right shoulder and then I stared at Gaara which's head has slowly fell from the block's wall to my shoulder.

I stared at him, and somehow I felt guilty.

'His sleep seems peaceful, and I know he was already tired. I don't even know what time it is, and he is here because of me. '

I tried to erase the guilt while looking somewhere else but him. It didn't really helped at first but after a while, my mind thinks of nothing, my body asks for nothing.

'But I can't sleep.' I thought while looking at Gaara again. No matter if I could ignore the fact that I made him to sleep here, and the fact that we are on the cold stone of the block, and the fact that maybe, just maybe, the morning will come and that man won't come even then.

My mind won't stop thinking that if he don't comes until Gaara wakes up, then he will ask for us to go and I would probably want to refuse him, but what if he will stay again, and I don't want to make him sleep here another night, and we have no food and maybe the man sleeps at someone else and will come after a week or something.

'I'm thinking too much.'

Somehow, I thought that this is ironically, I never thought about something this much, why do I really want to see him anyway?

He helps me with my blockages, but I can't help him with his. It's logic. He doesn't know me and yet, I stay in front of his house like I know him.

All of his paintings appeared in my mind.

'When I was young...' I thought somehow nostalgic. His pictures were all that I wanted to show, and yet they all have something in common, all of his paintings.

He is lonely. And I am too. I never admitted that it doesn't matters what colors he will add and what the picture shows, his picture has the same feeling, all of my feelings to be more exact, in them, in one painting, all that I try so hard to ignore, is there.

He makes me to be sincere with myself.

'I am not inspired by him like a normal person. I'm able to see the real me, without hiding, all of this in his paintings.'

I thought it with pure realization and pure surprised by what I just realized, after all these years, and while I was still absorbed in my thought with my hands hugging my knees, with Gaara's head on my shoulder, and with my eyes wide open from the shock of my new information, but still staring on the same spot, on the ground.

I heard the sound of footsteps, somewhere near, but I felt too tired to look up and let it be, because someone might be walking around here anyway.

But before I thought further, I am staring at someone's shoes, right in front of me, and I quickly looked up from the ground.

In the same time I realized that now, the morning is on its way, while I stared at a tall man, almost completely dressed in black, with black hair, and with black eyes staring down at me while on my turn, I did the same, while behind him, I saw the sunrise.

To be continued…

Another chapter and you must admit this was written quicker than the last. And no, this is still NejiGaara but first I need to finish this, I mean on the 'sideway' relationship, I hope you like it, I really like this idea and I think it suits them better than Neji and Gaara, for the story I mean, the truth is that there will be two stories in this, I mean NG and Sasuke and Naruto.

Well, I hope you didn't mind the change of view; the fact is that Gaara will have a longer point of view than Naruto but you will know both stories, almost in the same time, first it was Neji and Gaara even if it seemed somehow dull and now is SasuNaru's turn.

Hope no one minds, I really like how this story turns out to be…I hope I am not the only one…

And I hope no one considers me rude but I need help, because I want to change the title of the story and the summary but I almost have no idea how to name everything. My idea changed a little and they don't seem to fit anymore.

And if someone has some ideas, it would really be helpful. I don't want no one to cheat on anyone, it's unfaithful because of a completely different reason but I think no one can understand that and in this story it's more like the seme's chasing after ukes at least on someone's side. Well you will find out anyway. So the title is more complicated so some help will be perfect.

Because I got the idea that no matter how much I like writing and thinking at this story and maybe some enjoy reading it too, then who I described it outside doesn't match and doesn't brigs many readers…

And please tell me your opinion because I have some readers and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading it but nobody says anything so I hope I am not doing anything wrong….

Sorry for the long after chapter AN, and thank you very much.


	5. Chapter 5:Rainy

Do you know the feeling when you see someone for the first time in your life and you feel like you've known them since you know yourself?

It feels nostalgic, it feels warm, it feels safe, but above everything, it feels …odd.

Chapter 5: Rainy

"What are you staring at?"

Somehow I couldn't move, I just stared at him, almost without any reason.

I know that maybe more than one minute has passed and that it begins to be awkward, but in the back of my mind, I know, I just waited for him to complain. If I would only know the reason why.

I smiled while staring at the ground again; I even wanted to laugh at how the situation turned out to be.

We are still on the ground after all these hours, Gaara is still sleeping with his head on my shoulder and I could swear that I don't know how to move anymore.

But still, I reached my hand out to him and said:

"Nice to meet you, I am Uzumaki Naruto."

I can see hesitation and confusion in his almost stoic facial expression, but he still shakes my hand with a medium strength while he spoke:

"Sasuke Uchiha."  
I know who he is but this is the situation, I know who he is but he doesn't know who I am, so formal situations are still necessary.

We immediately let go and then he took a bunch of keys from his pocket and opened the door of the block.

I thought that he will let us here but then he spoke again:  
"You want to stay there?"

I thought twice about what he said and about my answer, somehow, this white night made its effect right now.

"Not really."

He helped me to carry Gaara inside his apartment and to put him on a couch while he brought a blanket and so, we let him sleep there without saying another word.

We are in the kitchen now, at a medium wooden table with black surface and white legs, we are face to face, me on one chair while he is on the other side of the table, right in front of me on the other chair.

"So, how long had you two stood there?" He said while massaging his temples.

"Since yesterday's night." I said and my voice sounded calm, I already think I know how he will react.

"And why would you two stay in front of my apartment for one whole night?" He asked with a rather cold voice, not impressed but suspicious.

"We, mostly I was waiting for you." I said and somehow I was curious of his next words but to my surprise, he begun to laugh a little with an ironic smile, like someone just told a very old joke.  
"Don't tell me…" He said with a muffled laugh and low, his small ironic smile present, somehow I thought he looks different when his face actually has an emotion on it but I felt somehow taken as a joke from what he shows.

"Tell you what?" I asked rather calm. He didn't seem to continue what he was saying so I just beat the iron while it was still hot.

"Well…" After this word, his smile and laugh disappeared; he took his hand from his forehead and looked at me with a serious expression.

"You two are some stalkers or something?" He said with a tone matching his serious expression.

I felt like laughing too in that moment.

'You think we are stalkers?' I thought and then said:

"No, we are not stalkers, the totally opposite, I am a…" I begun to say with an explicative tone but he didn't seem to want to hear it so he immediately cut me off.

"Fan?"

I looked in black eyes while they stared back.

'Fan?' I asked myself. 'Am I really a fan?'

"No." I said with a more confident voice. 'He must listen.'

"I am…"

"What?"

He interrupted me again, this time his ironic smile was present.

I wanted to throw something at him but instead my voice is somehow between yelling and calm.

"Listen to me! I am not a stalker and not a fan either. I paint too and I begun to paint because of you, and your paintings are the only ones that inspire me and the only ones that help me when I have a blockage and I really can't draw anymore and you didn't made a painting this year so…"

My whole big sentence was said with a calm tone at the beginning but demanding for attention and then I raised a little my voice, and then my voice broke to a very low tone, almost unable to hear myself.

So in the end I stopped; I didn't know what I wanted to say anymore. I know. I almost have no reason to be here, to bring Gaara in this too. That is why I've told him that he can go back if he wants but I didn't pushed it because I knew that he wouldn't.

'But then, why am I here?'

"So? You thought that you could help me with my blockage?" He said still amused but somehow with more seriousness in his eyes.

I looked at the person which I thought that it was my model in life.

I felt disappointed but then he stood up and walked to me, grabbed the front of my jacket strong and I stood up immediately too.

He seems ready to beat me. But just now, at this closeness I see.

The red veins in his eyes, the smell in his breathing.

'He's drunk.'

I don't know why he let me go while I was just staring at him, I don't know why I was relieved that he was drunk, somehow I convinced myself that his bad behavior isn't so bad, he is just tired, drunk, and confused.

I would probably be the same if someone stood in front of my apartment and then, with this reason.

He put a hand to his forehead again, massaging it and then he looked at me with a suddenly really normal expression. Like he is not drunk anymore but his eyes proved me otherwise.

"Let me sleep, and we will talk afterwards, I can't…" He said with frustration present in his voice.

While my mind continued his sentence: 'I can't take this.' It felt as though he really was interested about what I was saying but in the same time, he couldn't hear me, couldn't concentrate, couldn't stay awake and wanted to throw me out so that he can just think clearly after he will sleep.

So I nodded and we are in the living room again. Gaara is still on the couch sleeping soundly.

He stopped at the door frame of another room, I looked deeper after him and I realized that it is his bedroom.

He leaned on the frame's door like he is unable to stand anymore, at least unable to stay without anything to hold him.

And with an even more sleepy voice he said:

"Do you want to sleep?"

I looked at him and realized that this is the best he can talk; I could see him falling off his feat after two minutes of more standing so I quickly answered.

"No."

I knew it was a lie but he won't push it, he can't.

He walked in his room and to my surprise; he didn't close the door after him.

'He must've forgotten.'

I sat myself on the wooden floor, staring at Gaara, and then leaning with my back against the same couch, and quickly but surely, I fell asleep too.

A dreamless sleep, uncomfortable and what woke me up was the cold.

I woke up on the floor and while hearing something that sounded like rain.

Gaara is still sleeping on the couch; I looked at the clock and realized that I slept just 2 or maybe 3 hours.

I walked to the window and looked outside.

'It's raining.'

Without thinking further, I walked to the bedroom of Sasuke, and I stood at the door frame, one step before completely entering in the room.

I stared at him, sleeping on the neat bed, while the shadows from the big windows, the shadows that had formed while water drops fell on the other side of them. Outside.

I stared at him while entering. I put myself on the bed while listening to the rain outside and in the same time, listening to his steady breathing.

I took the bands of black hair from his closed eyes and stared at his face.

White skin, almost too pale, also, he is skinny, almost too skinny, I wonder if he is eating properly. He has black hair that oddly stands up at the back of his head. But with long bangs at the front which are framing his face.

Now his eyes are closed but I honestly thought that he had beautiful eyes when I looked closer at them, behind those red flushed veins.

After that, I couldn't think of anything. My mind was just empty black space for a few moments, but I didn't want to move either. But then, he moved.

He turned on the other side and I couldn't help but stare.

His neck is now in full view, also with the side of his right cheek, his hand stretched long, almost too close to me, slim fingers, and then I realized he isn't completely anorexic, his arms are somehow strong, because I can see a little muscle on them.

Somehow, I begun to think that the girls must like him, he is skinny but still strong, elegant but firm.

'What am I thinking about?'

Somehow half aware that he might wake up and catch me staring right in that moment when he moved again, I stood up from the bed and got out to the living room.

Where, to my surprise, Gaara is stretching and yawning.

I realized that he will soon freak out because of the suddenly change of places. So, I quietly closed the door of Sasuke's room.

He looked around him for a brief moment and then he stopped his glaring at me, to where I stand with my body against the door.

But his expression soon changed from confused to content.

He looked at me with sort of understanding and somehow, sort of questioning.

"We are in his apartment." I said with a voice I hated. A voice that isn't in this room, and I know that.

My head is still in that room, on his bed, his sleeping figure still fresh in my mind, like a photo that I can't burn.

'Why was I staring at him? Why was I afraid of being caught? I was just looking, I didn't…'

Somehow, every thought disappeared when he stood up from the couch and then sat on it again.

"Did you spoke with him?" He asked me with a normal tone.

"Yeah, kind of, but he was…" I stopped my voice again, and smiled a little at the very amusing but somehow not so, memory.

"He was?" Curiosity isn't really Gaara's trait but sometimes, it gets the best out of him.

"Drunk." I said like it is a statement and it is, a fact.

"Hm…" He murmured with a low voice that I could barely hear. The rain didn't stop so it was the only sound we could hear.

After this, we didn't talk for a while until, Gaara broke the silence.

We are now both on the couch, me at one edge and he at the other.

"So… I guess I should go."

"What? Why?"  
I asked suddenly alarmed. I know that I managed to talk to him while he was asleep but still, the next time I will talk to him, he will be awake, I don't know how he will act, and I don't know what intrigues me more, if he will act the same or if he will be completely changed.

Somehow, I wanted him to be a little changed, the conversation we had was comfortable if I could name it somehow but still, one minute he smiled the next he almost seemed to want to beat me.

His ironic laugh and smile, I felt like I was a joke. I don't want to be his joke.

"Because as you said, this isn't about me, this is about you, and I feel like the fifth wheel." He said too calm for me to understand why.

"You're not. Come on! You don't even know where we are." I said but somehow I already begun to feel like I am talking too laud and that I am exaggerating when I was the one that asked him to go before.

But why, why do I want him to stay so much?

"I will call a cab."  
"With what phone?" I asked.  
"It's one right over there." He pointed to the left corner of the room while lifting an eyebrow.

I know that I didn't observed the phone and I already know I can't stop him but still, I can't find the reason why he suddenly decided to leave me alone with him.

He took the sheet from my jacket that was on the chair that is exactly right beside the small table with the phone.

The indications are there so he can tell where he is.

Somehow, I felt left behind.

But just then, the door opened.

Ruffled black hair after sleeping, still red eyes but not so red as they were the last time I saw him awake, and still, he looks almost fully awake, from his sleep and from his drunken state.

But he leans on the door frame again while staring at me and at Gaara that just finished his conversation on the phone.

When Gaara has put the phone down, he looked just at him and not at me anymore.

Then Gaara came before him and reached out a hand.

"I am _Sabaku no Gaara, it's a pleasure to met you Mister Uchiha."  
I watched the scene with somehow an intrested gaze._

_Gaara is as formal as ever to the new persons he meets, but still, Sasuke seems somehow awake and somehow unable to uter a word. And just like that they shook hands and then Gaara walked until he was in front of me._

_„I will go now, take care."_

_With a second glance at Sasuke and from my point of view, a protecting glance, he got out._

_And I was left alone with an almost drunk painter._

After hearing Gaara's steeps that faded away, after the sound of the closed door, I imediatly got up from the couch to fallow Sasuke that has suddenly almost run to the kitchen.

I stared at him while he studied his own fridge and after a moment or two, took a bottle of pills out of it and then filled himself a glass of water while he took two pills from the bottle and drank them with the water.

I stared at the horrible state he looks to be in but still…

'Why did you drink?'

The question stopped in my throat and just then I looked at him while he stopped in front of me and looked at me with an expressionless face.

"You want to see some paintings I didn't put in the gallery?" He said.

I think that my eyes suddenly had that spark Gaara once said that means I am enthusiastic and I am.

I just hope it will help me with my blockage.

'It's like I forgot why I am here…'

I nodded my head quickly as an affirmative answer and we quickly walked to the second floor.

"You own the block?" I asked rather interested.

"Not really. Just the two apartments, the others two have other owners but they never come anyway." He answered almost with a tired voice from how much he seemed to dislike talking.

I figured out that much.

From the moment the door opened before my eyes, I knew that I won't be able to talk anymore too.

What he didn't tell me was that he made his second apartment a painting studio.

Paint, pencils, sheets, brushes, and paintings everywhere and it's somehow neat, but there are too many things to consider it very empty.

I am in the middle of the room, staring at everything with intense curiosity and I know, in the back of my mind, and attentive with the edge of my eyes, he looks at me with no expression on his face and with his hands at his chest, and somehow I know that I probably look out of my mind but with all of these paintings and all this haze, nothing has made me to really want to draw myself.

'Why?'

My smile faded and I think I saw him moving from a leg to another even if I know that he might wanted to pass that unobserved.

I looked everywhere for one more time and then I stopped and looked at him.

He is leaning with his back against the wall, his arms at his chest, closed, and with his eyes at me.

I could still hear the rain outside, while I looked at the painter that in my mind made itself a painting.

'Black eyes, so deep and still like a wall wants to stop me while his pale hands put a barrier for me, while I know that if I would go and take them, separate them, the barrier will disappear. Black hair as if feathers of ravens were gathered, but still so soft at the touch. The barrier is cold also as his eyes seem to be, but if I could just understand why I want to understand him. Skinny and elegant body, almost like dancing every time it moves, but you wouldn't allow me to say anything like this, you wouldn't allow me to explain why I am here, you already look like all of your paintings, the black explains everything, while you used it in every single one of your paintings, your feelings, your disease, your coldness. You look like a raven to me, but you lost your wings long ago before I came. Now, we are both broken.'

I sigh and somehow annoyed at myself that I thought too much in such a little time while I stared in his eyes, somehow paranoid and wishing that I didn't said anything out loud, but then I broke the silence:

"So…"

With no idea of what to say, I continued to hope that he will say something, save me from this madness that has created in my head.

'Say something already…'

He suddenly looked at the ground but he opened his mouth to speak for which I am grateful:

"You still have a blockage, huh?" He said with a low voice.

'How does he know?'

I almost panicked for a second while the thought kept screaming in my head but before I could tell something back, he spoke again:

"I want to see your paintings too."

To be continued…

Finally finished this chapter. Yeah, another suspense thing, I wish I could finish it calm, without anything to tell you later but I want to keep you guys tuned and it just turns out that way. I guess I am a suspense person. Is it that really bad?

Anyway, for the reviews : I can't believe you areTruck+Speed+Me=SPLAT!...oh, now I feel a worse that you thought that he was Sasuke and all that stuff, god I really hope I clearified everything and that you keep reading this story and don't hate me...

And yes, there is some angst , almost too much but I keep believing that even if there is somehow tension everywhere, the truth is that all the tension is in their heads, not outside, come on, everything has been quiet until now...besides in this chapter with Naruto yelling but it wasn't really a lot of yelling an I explained...

Well, now that everything is good, and Sasuke is in present just from chapter 4, people come on! I begin to want to delete chapter 2 because some of you might think the same.

God! Someone tell me opinions here! The suspense and the angst is too much now but it will slow down, it can't be another in way. Belive me I thought about it. Even if I don't think there really is much angst, I really feel very calm every time I write and expecility this story.

Gaara was freaked out by chapter 2 and Naruto has the most horrible blockage and he is scared out of his mind , how calm should I put it? Yeah I am complaining.

Sorry if I am exagerating but I think I am doing something wrong and I really like this story, even if I guess you can't please them all...

And yaoi lover14706 thank you very much for your review,and I am glad you liked it and this chapter is out so soon (okay not very soon but...) because of your review mostly because it made me feel that actually someone likes it. Thank you very much you made my day.

Well, I begun to think that I can update this story once per week, I will try to even if sometimes I won't, I will tell you guys earlier when and how, just so you know it might be at the end of the week or even in weekend so everybody will know when a chapter might come out.

Oh, and this goes the same for my new story named: The Runaway. If you have time, you can check that out, I really like how it turned out to be, even if now, I am at chapter one (yeah lame) but that story will be update once per week for sure, I really mean it.

And no matter what, I will try harder and harder to make this story better! (Hah! I said it)

See you next time. Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6:Pathétique

Sorry for how long it took, hope you will like this chapter:

Do you remember the times when your mother enters in your room when you are not home? Then she begins to clean your useless junk and she finds something that you didn't want her to see?

And when you finally arrived home at the end of the day or at least at the middle, she has that 'I know your dirty little secret' expression on her face?

Well, that's how I felt when I opened the door of my room for my inspector to enter and to prove me that everything in my life is upside down.

I guess, it would be worse if it would really be my mother...or not?

Chapter 6: Pathétique

"So, these are all yours?" He asked me in a calm voice.

His black eyes were staring attentive in my blue eyes for more than a second, until, embarrassed by absolutely nothing, I looked away and therefore, I refused to let my eyes to enter in his gaze again.

At least, yet.

"Yes." I said like a child that refuses to speak more than one or two words. In my case, no more than one.

My paintings, drawings or anything that I have in this room that has been made by my hand are spread across my desk, or, the dorm's desk.

The funny thing was that at first, I refused to show him my 'creations'. Why?

Many would think that it's completely childish and more than weird, even rude.

He showed me his creations, and he is supposed to be the 'master', and I am the small little tree beside him.

But I am the one who refused. But somehow, I ended up in his car with him asking me for directions to the dorm.

I don't know if I was afraid in that moment, if maybe, he doesn't like my paintings, or worse, if he would pretend that he likes them.

It all happened in a rush and I didn't have time to catch up with the present time.

He is now staring at my paintings and what annoys me the most is that I can't tell what he thinks.

His face has no expression. I have not even one clue about what it's going on in his mind.

And I am not even sure if I want to know or not.

"Hmm..." That was the only sound that I heard after more than I could estimate.

I don't know how I ended up a little far from him with my hands crossed at my chest, staring at him very attentive or how he ended up leaning on the edges of the desk, like a predator prepared to attack his prey.

All that I know is that when he took one painting from the numberless others, I was really curious.

'Do you like that one the most, or you hate that one the most?' I wanted to ask, but I said nothing, instead, he spoke when he stopped right in front of me.

"When did you draw this one?" He asked me and after taking another glance at the picture, like he didn't want to take his eyes off of it, he showed it to me.

I looked at a drawing, it can't be named painting.

It represents a field with a lot of grass and in this whole huge field, there is a butterfly.

I smiled, and when I spoke, I didn't take my eyes off the drawing.

"This is my first drawing. I was inspired by your gallery, by your very first painting, when I first found your gallery."

To be more exact, when I first found it, it wasn't his; there were a lot of many others paintings with different names.

But I was inspired just by his painting and then, the gallery slowly became his. Not very soon but soon enough, he has done enough paintings to be just his gallery.

But though, I still remember the first time when I found it, and when I ran back home, and took some white sheets, some pencils and then, I ran back.

I sat down on the seat or couch or whatever you could name it because it was like a bank but it was comfortable or I just felt comfortable...

Before me, was his painting, and in my arms, the white sheet, and when I begun to draw, at first, I didn't even knew what I wanted to draw, but slowly, it became like a picture, slowly, the shadows came on their own, the drawing had his own life, like all my feelings were in them, like my hand was just helping them become real.

The pencil was the connection, the connection between my feelings and my soul to the real world, to the paper.

When I've closed my eyes and then, when I looked at him again, I realized that he won, I met his gaze and I didn't mind.

I was surprised that from all the pictures and drawings that were everywhere in the room, not just on the desk, he found this one, he found my first one.

I never cared about what they say in the books about the art of painting.

Everything came naturally from me; I never read anything about it.

But what my teacher said once was something that I still don't know if it was from a book or from his heart.

He said that the first drawing is yours and it's you. When you will realize that you have a bit of talent you will start to copy things, people and places. They won't come from you anymore and even those that are purely artistic and from you, will never be as pure as the first.

They will always be influenced, you will think about it, you will put symbolic things in it, but the first, will draw itself.

I know that it should be awkward; the fact is that I stared in his eyes and he did the same, for too long in pure silence. But it doesn't feel awkward. It's like we know something, like we search for something in us, even if I have no idea what it is.

Maybe it has passed twenty seconds or one minute, or more, until he begun to talk to me:

"Did you felt...?" He asked me in a voice so low and so calm, he whispered to me, and I didn't even realized that he has made a step forward and that he is already very close to me.

I've realized that he spoke but I didn't understand any word. I almost didn't hear him.

"Sorry, say it again, I didn't hear..."

I said and then, he closed his eyes and then he opened them again, so close to me, that I could feel his breath. Again and again...

"Why did you felt lonely?"

….…*….

"Again! Again!"

The woman spoke, or yelled with a wooden stick in her arms, slowly moving it with her right arm to arrive on her left palm.

"But I already sang it three times!" I said. My right hand is in my red hair, I feel the urge to pull my hair off of my scalp.

My left hand is on the small chair of the piano, as I lean against the piano itself.

This room it's beautiful, the big windows in front, showing a view of nature, with dark purple curtains. The room is in shades of a dark red and cream color. The carpet is soft and the room just makes you feel comfortable.

The black old piano has almost filled the whole room but in the same time, the beauty of the room it's because of the piano and of the flowers at the small round table in the left corner.

I love this room, I love to play the piano, and even the teacher, that it's a wonderful person even if she easily loses her calm, but the room and the teacher are not my problem.

"Again!" She said and looked me in the eye.

This woman it's not young, but I don't think that she has more than 30 years. Her brown hair has not even one white hair.

Always tied in a bun, her skirt is always at the length of the knee, her long and slim fingers along with her skinny body which had never lost their grace, even if her face it's pleasant but bony.

When she loses her calm, sadly, she really uses the always present, wooden stick.

I've played 'Beethoven- pathétique' for three times and I always do mistakes, as she says, one simple and elementary mistake.

But I don't even know what mistake or mistakes, and I just don't know why I can't even concentrate; this lesson it's a lost cause for me, but not for her.

"In the name of God! Stop!" She yelled but I didn't stop.

She almost ran to me and when she arrived, she hit me with the stick over my fingers.

I looked at her with no certain expression, after all, she is right, but she didn't have to hit me.

She sighs and then she spoke to me again:

"Has something happened?"

I know that beside the fact that she is my teacher, she is also my friend.

But beside my worry for the blond, and for the problem that I have with my dreams which are revolving around one man that is a complete stranger.

"No. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You are my most talented student and you never had problems with concentration or with anything else, remember that I was the one that was surprised by you."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I just have a bad day, that's all."

"Again, Gaara, are you sure?"

I stared in her eyes and I knew, she never lied to me and after all, I knew that she would understand me but I just couldn't explain my situation to her. Neither do I know why I can't concentrate. Why would she?

"Yes. Madame Lavender, I'm sure, thank you."

Just when I took my book and when I had to make just two steps to get out, she stopped me.

"Wait, I forgot to tell you, I want you to meet someone, he is part of the jury of the next competition, and he has even paid for this school and for the contest! Well, not all of it but a good amount! I want you to be nice with him. He is also an old friend of mine."

I stared at her, she looked excited and I understood that I should act very respectable with that man. For her and for the school, not to mention that it's obvious that it will raise my chances for me to win in the contest. But somehow, I could already imagine the old man which will decide if I am good enough or not.

But why today? I just made her listen the worst of my performances. And why me? Even if she claims that I am her most talented student. I am not so sure I am anymore.

While we sat on the chairs of the only table of the room, in the left corner with a vase with white flowers in it, I tried to find a reason why she wanted me to meet this very important person, but the truth is that I no longer trust my talent.

She is the same as always, and more, I should thank her. But the truth is that I never felt more unprepared for a contest, and worst, the most important contest of the whole year.

I stood up and walked to the window, I opened it and I stared outside, at the sky and at the trees, with no particularly target.

I barely heard that someone has knocked at the door but then I heard her voice, a voice filled with formal words but somehow happy, and then I heard my name and that means that I also have to begin with my own formalities.

I closed my eyes, I sigh and I turned around, I begun to speak as I did this.

"My name is Sabaku no Gaara, I'm very grateful to..." My voice has died in my throat.

I stared at almost completely white eyes, dark long brown hair in contrast with his pale skin but muscular under his shirt; after all, I know how he looks like without it.

He stared back at me but his face and his voice do not have betrayed any of the sea of emotions that I feel right now.

My eyes were wide open even when he spoke to me and stretched his hand to me for me to take:

"Pleased to meet you, I am Neji Hyuga."

To be continued…


	7. Chapter 7:One in a million

Many would think at fate as a myth, or name it just as a pure and simple coincidence.

But the truth is that you never know, as you never know if ghosts are really there or not, or as many other things, everybody is free to think as they please.

But sometimes...it's fine to think, even if it's just for one second, that there is really something that waits for you, and maybe, to change your whole life.

After all, as cliché as it may sound, you can never know.

Chapter 7: One in a million

Even with his stretched hand before me, I feel as if I'm pinned to the floor, and even my arms, a puppeteer is somewhere in the dark, with its strings pulled to the tightest, making me unable to move.

But I guess the body has no importance in this, my mind it's in pure black, dense and absorbing.

This dark it's absorbing each and all the thoughts which could save me from this situation.

Even so, my eyes are quite attentive, staring into white confused eyes, who are staring back at me, telling me to continue his act and that we can resolve it later, in private.

After knowing that normally I would accept his idea, but the real question is:

'Why cannot I move?'

"Uh, huh, he is just shy; I guess you've really intimidated him."

Madame Lavender said and I heard her, and how much I wished to say that I'm not the shy type.

Her hands on my back, reassuring me that everything is fine, and I also reassure my mind and body but all I do is to stare.

"'s fine, I'm really not bothered by it, this has happened to me for a few times before."

He said and I just couldn't believe his arrogant lie.

'Move, damn it!' I yelled to myself but before I could say a word, he spoke again:

"So, what do you say, you'll drink a coffee with me so we can discuss further complications?"

I thought that he asked Madame but no, he is talking to me, the question is directed to me, his eyes are at me.

"Hm." An affirmative 'hm' and even with wide opened eyes, while I try to make myself move.

'Thank goodness that she is behind me and doesn't see me.' This thought has appeared out of nowhere but even so, in front of me, I faced a cocky smirk directed to, again, at me.

And another thought which is really underlined in my mind, has suppressed all of them:

'You're having fun, aren't you?'

….…*….…

I wonder with my every step: What am I doing?

But in the same time I ignore it and I just let it flow, after all, no matter what, I can't stop the river from flowing, and with my every step, I know, the stones will remain on the bottom, even if the river flows too fast, the past doesn't cares, the rocks remain, behind me, in rows.

"I'll bring you back, I do not kidnap you." The driver said, black hair and in the light, a dark blue, its black eyes like the sky at night when the stars are shining and fighting to light the black.

I always thought that because the moon has no light, that the moon borrows the light from the sun which gives her a little light, so she has a reason to be so lonely, ghostly.

But in the end I realized that the rays of the moon, its light, are the endless stars all around the sky.

'No, I didn't always think that, but I like to think that.'

I closed my eyes as I spoke:

"Yes, I know."

I opened them again, and I looked at the road, not crowded but still, with enough cars.

'However, what it's sad at a night with the sun's light it's when there is not even one star.'

So, if the light from his eyes disappears right now and I'm at fault...

'How would I feel?'

….…**….…

"You were like, theoretically, a statue!"

Brown hair like milk chocolate, white skin like the milk itself, and the eyes, almost completely white.

'He's freaking me out.'

The reason why I feel like comparing him with food might be the reason that we are now in a cafe and that I drink coffee.

But while looking at him while he's explaining me things which I know, I felt the need to do it.

Even so, I can tell he's not really the talker, but he wants to make a normal conversation, in a normal cafe, while I'm thinking about the time when I saw what I saw.

'It isn't abnormal to do what he did, after all, but maybe the fact that they were both guys it's what is bothering me?' I asked myself but in the same time, I've put the thought aside.

'I don't know the answer.' I thought and right after it, trying even more to ignore it, I begun to talk while he sipped from his coffee:

"So, who was the guy?"

The entire coffee which was supposed to be inside his organism wasn't, he has spat it in the air just when I finished my question. Then he has coughed on it, and a waitress has brought napkins but all that he said after he took the napkins from her and after he looked at me and realized that I still wait for my answer, was:

"The bill, please."

The white clouds above us, always moving, always there, at least one, always breathing.

The grey pavement isn't affected by the sun which isn't in its powerful days, but in its gentle ones.

Though, the wind seems to be in its full grace, making the fallen leafs to dance, the garbage to sing its song, and the tress to tremble.

Our steps, though they might not look hurried, I somehow, in the back of my mind, I think they are.

There weren't ten minutes since when we've left the cafe and we are already at the half of the road, or at least, that it's what he said when I asked him where we are going.

Soon enough, we were in front of the block from where we've left.

"Why did we come back?" I asked him and just after we entered, he answered me.

"Because there aren't many people at this hour and we can find a room to talk."

He said and I just didn't say anything in return.

After the incident at the cafe, I could just think:

'It must be a touchy subject for him.'

However, after it, even if he must think it, I'm not stupid, and I wasn't born yesterday.

But he could talk about it like he's just a friend; he didn't have to give me the details about their relationship.

And even so, there weren't even many people in the cafe, and to put the cap, he even chose an expensive cafe, a small private spot in it, so there were just signs that he wanted to talk there.

After all, that is what we've silently approved when Madame was with us. Our common friend.

'Or I am just making excuses 'cause I just want to know more about it.'

I feel like a brat, I'm not the curious type after all, so why am I asking him all these things? It isn't like we were friends before and this was a big shock, quite the opposite, to make friends with someone after you find out is quite the shock.

'It's because I have to stay with him for the next months because of the contest, I want to be able to look him straight in the eye.'

That was my last thought before I entered in a room in which, as always, a piano exists but not black, a really immaculate white with a transparent vase with red roses in it.

The room had almost the same structure as the room in which I practice with Madame, but it's mostly white, red and cream, and with no table, but two armchairs.

However, he ignored them and went to the open window with cream-colored curtains.

And when I sat down on one of the armchairs, he closed the only window.

He also sat on one armchair, the only remaining one, and before I could ask something, he spoke:

"That guy isn't my lover." He said and I just blinked, but said nothing as he continued his explication to a complete stranger:

"I'm really the lonely type, the thing is, that guy is a friend of my best friend, and he kind of wanted help."

He said, and expired soundly, and somehow, I heard myself saying:

"What kind of help? With what?"

He just looked at me, and then at the ground.

"Something like he just discovered his orientation and he just got his first boyfriend which is experimented and wanted to also know the 'deal', anyway, in my opinion it was a stupid thing to do but it wasn't my place to say something." He finished but I continued:

"Why not?"

He really seemed disturbed because I seemed to want to know all, and without me noticing, I wanted to know all for apparently, no reason.

"Because I had a favor to my best friend. And that was all of it."

I am far away, it's like someone else stays in my chair and I look from afar at the conversation.

And so, again, I heard myself talking:

"But anyway, you're gay?"

I asked and he just looked me in the eye. And after he realized that I won't look away, he answered:

"Yes, I am."

'I hate when I do this.' I thought but still, my mouth moves, my words come out, but somehow, without me.

"I don't really care but I just wanted to be sure." I said and I realized that his expression changed a little, he's paler.

"But what were you doing there anyway?" He asked me and it took me whole seconds to realize it.

"Some teacher asked me to bring some books to teacher's Yamamoto room, and I just heard sounds... you know..." I said and he just nodded.

"Yeah, Yamamoto's my friend." He said and I just stared at him, refusing to ask more questions, still, he continued:

"And he isn't like me if that's what you're wondering." He said and for the first time I felt like I could be read, easily, by him.

"I wasn't ..." I begun, but he cut me off.

"I just wanted to assure you. Got questions?" He asked.

But I'm searching for questions, but I've found none, still, it's like a piece isn't there, even if the puzzle seems complete, it's like one single piece is missing, right in the very middle of it.

I think that minutes have passed while I looked in one single spot, and I've realized that he rose up from his place just when I heard a song.

Him, playing at the piano, and while he played and I just stared and listened.

All I could think about while he played, and even when he stopped was:

'I never heard a song as beautiful as this one, and never ever heard one as sad."

….…***….…

"Are you making fun of me?" I almost yelled, but not angry, the smile feels even within my voice, while it spread on my face.

"No, not at all." He said, also, wearing a proud smirk.

"This is your first drawing?" I asked and instead of looking at him while knowing that he didn't lied, I stared at the paper from my hands.

After I refused to come back to his apartment, while he didn't give me at least one reason, telling me absolutely nothing about his intentions, I was somehow pulled by him here, mostly, by his light, the light which wasn't there when I first met him, and that has happened with no more than one day ago.

The spark was buried underneath those black eyes. And it seemed like it was really dead, but now, I realize that it wasn't.

And I realize that I, myself, own it, and that I just now, discovered it.

After all, the chances of this happening were one in a million.

But here I am, standing, while in my two hands it's a drawing which has been created by the hands of a child, its first one actually, which represents a field with a lot of grass and in this whole huge field, there is a butterfly.

To be continued…

I really liked to write this chapter and I hope I didn't disappoint anybody.

And about the reviews, I want to thank yaoi lover14706 for its review, I didn't ignored it at all, it really encouraged me enough to want to write for this story once more, after all, all that I want are not reviews to tell me that I am great or stuff like that, all I want to know it's if you guys like what I write, if you think it's interesting and if I made you smile at least just for one second.

So again, thank you, and I hope everybody enjoyed this chapter.


	8. Chapter 8:Guilty

An artist would know to tell you, to make you fall in love with the feelings of which he also fell in love, like the emotions, the fear, the exciting feeling before you walk on a stage.

Right before you enter, the curtain it's drawn, and the thousands of people applaud you with all their might.

And even before then, you are not prepared; you still feel the same emotions which won't let you make not even one more step ahead.

Won't let you think, won't let you calm down, and won't let you breathe.

What I think, is that they all tame these emotions with one single thought.

As they begin to act their role, as they begin to play the piano or to sing with their own voice.

This lone thought will make them move, no matter what.

This thought of not disappointing the ones who are applauding them.

'This was a rehearsal people!'

Chapter 8: Guilty

Many words pass through your mind when you look at this piece of art, at this grand spectacle which has no human, no employ, and no artist in it. Or at least it had, before it has been abandoned for others to see and interpret.

While the creator moved on and continued to create other pieces of art.

The insides of a theater are themselves a spectacle.

The panoramic view of the whole building from outside it's not always as wonderful or impressive.

While the insides always have at least one touch from an artist, a painter or a sculptor, or sometimes, even both.

But no matter how the walls are painted or the poles sculpted with an incredible talent which always defines and expresses a feeling even in the last very detail, the scene is where the magic begins.

Although, the magic can be in many kinds, even if it's about a play with actors, a romantic comedy or a horrible tragedy, it can be a song which you will continue to know for the rest of your life or at least, the feeling you had when you listened to the voice of the piano, violin or even the voice of a human, an artist, a singer.

But no matter what form the magic takes, it always makes you forget what it's all around, where you are, who you are, it makes you look just ahead, at the scene where the artists themselves are the paintings and the sculptures.  
However, when there is no spectator to applaud you from their seat, or at least to look at you, then the whole magic almost vanishes.

The artist on the stage stares at the empty seats, and feels like a stranger, even though he is as amazed as he can be, by the whole view in front of him.

'What a spectator doesn't know is that the best seat is right here, on the stage.'

I told myself, as I stared at the red chairs, and at the splendid room which is mostly the bigger room ever saw by my green eyes and the most elegant, the paintings on the walls and the sculptures, not to mention the stylish chairs and curtains and many other things.

"Are you listening?" I heard a voice coming from my right and I almost immediately detached myself from the trance I fell into while staring at the view, and then, I stared at almost white eyes, while the owner of the eyes has sighed.

At my right, he seats on the chair of an elegant piano and he wants my attention.

It should be an honor, to be taught by someone like him who is named a genius of the piano.

Even so, I am not the usual type of an artist, which should probably be a fan of a greater artist, because this person is not a stranger and not a friend either.

In my eyes, I still can see the scene where and when I saw him for the first time.

' _His pale long hands are on the waist of the other man, holding him, guiding him, but just when I stared at his hands, my gaze changed radically and my mouth has closed again, while I felt watched. _

_I looked at the brown haired man's face and then I focused at his eyes that were watching me, with no real surprise._

_I was sure that the door isn't completely open, but if I can see him, he can see me too._

_I was completely sure that he sees me when I searched in his eyes for something, and he searched into my eyes for something too. Like the world stopped in those positions, he didn't stop his thrusts but his eyes are watching me in the same time._

_I didn't know what I felt a second ago, or what I should feel right now. Caught? Guilty? Or disgusted by myself for watching all those things or disgusted of what they are doing? _

_But I did not felt any of those, almost nothing._

_But then he opened his mouth and everything came into my mind and I realized that I've held my breath while I stared into his eyes, and I let my lungs to breathe again, and all the reality that I've lost while staring into his white eyes. I've turned around and I've ran out of the apartment and I didn't looked back, I closed the door but not completely, I don't care anymore._

_I ran until I was outside the building, and I heard Naruto calling my name in the process. But I didn't want to look back._

_I ran outside the school, until I was in the dorm, in my room, and with the door locked. '_

The distant memory has played in my mind in seconds while my steady steps have guided me to the man which has been the principal actor in it.

He patted the empty space from beside him as he watched me with wide attentive eyes.

While I knew that I didn't intended to sit beside him because I made that fact known when I stopped walking right in front of the piano or at least at its right.

But he didn't buy any of that, and he just patted the empty space further.

And as I swallowed the lump which has formed in my throat as I sat down beside him.

Being awfully close to him, with our shoulders touching slightly, just then, I realized the silence from all around us.

Just us in this impressive immense room, it's just us and the piano which also keeps quiet along with us.

However, it isn't awkward because we have spent the last week in this state, and I have been amazed by this room each time I have visited it, terrified by the fact that in one day, it won't be just us and the piano, but an audience to applaud, and me and the piano, me and my emotions, alone.

I don't seem to be prepared at all. My talent has been cast-off to the sink in these past weeks before he came, the emotions controlling my fingers.

However, I wasn't very surprised by my reaction but the one who has been surprised or even shocked by my weakness it was my teacher, Madame Lavender.

Who is currently very upset with me, and has refused to teach me further because she has wasted all of her ways to repair my new problems. She gave up on me with her body and with her mind this time.

After all, the contest is in a few months, but this has happened to me before he appeared, and she has thought that maybe this really is byword her qualities.

And she has let me in the care of a genius, who has also been a student of hers and a friend, Neji Hyuga which has gladly accepted to teach me.

The one who hasn't been happy in all this deal, it's me.

To be sincere, I don't even know what I feel, I am not sad but I am not happy either. So, why I don't even feel in between these feelings?

"This one and then this one..." He says to me, while he points out to the book in front of us.

As we suddenly begin to play a song.

Not a sad one but not a happy one either, it's perfect because it's not.

But it's me.

I have already realized how he has become a genius, because of the Spartan ways of learning himself and others.

I don't know how I feel because lately, I fall asleep in the instant when I put myself on a bed or couch, even a chair once, I forget to eat until I feel too weak to walk, and I dream the scores of the songs, and I wake up and then I do it in reality.

I don't know how much I can take this, and I haven't saw Naruto in a week, this has never happened before.

The time when I saw him, I just explained him the reason why I can't see him and he has really understood me, but I don't, not anymore.

I don't understand myself.

'Why do I put up with all of this?'

The song echoes in the empty room, in the walls, in the marble floor, in the windows, and then it echoes in our ears.

We play the song faster and faster, until I feel lost.

And somehow, his right hand and my left hand are colliding with each other in the middle of the piano's keyboard and the song stops and just the echo is barely heard in the corners of the huge room.

As he takes my hand in his and I just stare, my hand so cold and his hand so warm.

We both look at our own hands together, and then, in our eyes.

Searching for something, but I can't tell what and somehow, even if I want to ignore it, in the back of my mind, I know the reason why I put up with all this.

….**…..….

From the moment when I've been in Sasuke's apartment and since when we have realized the connection between our first drawings, we have constantly saw each other or more like, madly saw each other.

I don't recall one single day without him since then.

The thing is that I am not the one who starts it all but he is.

Even so, after we have been to way too many cafes, galleries, libraries, shops and parks, I can't understand why this happens, not at all.

But I refused to think about it until today, the only day when he hasn't appeared.

I am in my usual place, at my tree, and as usually, when I come here, I'm drawing something. And I do, but the only thought I have, the only picture I have in my mind and which boils in my fingers is him.

And so, after staying here, under my tree, for more than I could estimate, I finish my drawing and after I finished it, I stare at it since then.

At a drawing of a man, with hair like feathers, with shining eyes even if for now, they have no color, I know that the hair and the eyes are black as the sky at night compared with its white perfect skin.

Its portrait is perfect, but he's not here, and I have done it from my mind, entirely.

But it's like his clone, and as the wind softly moves the paper from my hands, I look beside me at the empty space of grass where he used to lay.

And then I look back at the drawing.

As a feeling of loneliness spreads within me, I haven't saw Gaara for more than a week, but I don't really miss him so very much, and I wonder why after just one day without Sasuke, I feel so desperate as to don't realize that I'm drawing him until I stop my fingers to look at it when it's finished.

And somehow, I look back and search for a reason why he hasn't come today, searching for a moment which is the reason for my guilt.

Even so, I can't stop.

I can't take my eyes off of his portrait.

To be continued…

The action starts, hope everybody liked this chapter.

PS: I have a poll, if anybody is interested then go ahead and check it out.

Thank you.


	9. Chapter 9:Alone

You see, I've always believed that stories are of different kinds, even if the genre is the same, or even if the plot it's exactly the same.

The way you write it, the way you feel it; it's different for everyone because no one is exactly the same as another person.

But the stories can be of two types, at least, if you ask me:

The first type is when the writer invents the plot, the characters that are completely different from whom he is, and the people around him, friends or family, and even the place where everything happens, even if he has never been there before. The writer sees everything, feels it, but it has nothing to do with him.

The second type is when the writer is emotionally and personally involved with the story. A person, a pet, a place, a word or at least one single faith of his own, one single thought or fact, something that he strongly believes in, even if it's religion, love, or money. It has everything to do with him.

So, I also believe that this applies to the ones like me, the painters.

The type that invents and tries to see the world like Picasso could, because it would assure him a prize.

Or the type that tries to paint the world he sees through his own eyes, to show it to others, giving life to a white sheet, as different as it can be from the other's point of view.

So, here I am, wondering: 'What type of painter am I?'

Chapter 9: Alone

Dusty shelves with rotten books. Despite the old wooden floor, which has no cracks and it's also surprisingly clean.

The big and beautifully structured windows often delight me with their presence, along with their dim offered rays of sun, because of the gracious curtains that are covering them, and makes one think that the library it's in its own little world, separated from the noise and danger of the outside, covers you with silence, peace and space, because as you enter, you automatically are involved in its world, you are captivated, absorbed in it, like you are when you smell the perfume of a flower.

I wonder through the corridors, the walls are made of books, and after I've casually looked and searched with my bright blue eyes through the books, I have finally found what I was looking for.

'Absolutely nothing.'

I would never admit if someone asked, but the reason why I am in this wonderful huge and impressive library is not because of a book. But of the person that is standing on a chair, at a wooden table, reading.

And with my head after a wooden bookshelf, I feel like an eavesdropper, somehow spying on him, quietly, but completely dazed by black hair, black eyes and white skin.

"_So, Sasuke…do you have a job or…?" I asked while I tried not to be rude, and also to be quiet, entering along the others quiet conversations that are happening at other tables, very close to ours, in the background of the small but comfortable coffee shop._

"_In fact, I do." Firm and clear, but somehow with a sweet voice, he answered to me._

_I waited for him to tell me the details, but they didn't seem to come. So I patiently and attentively searched into his eyes, and face features for any kind of feeling that could tell me why he isn't continuing._

_He immediately realized, in the instant when he looked at me, into my curious but serious eyes._

"_At a library." He said, short, but concrete._

"_Which one?" I continued, pushing him to tell me everything, while I took a slip from my juice, and stared at his untouched coffee._

"_Ever heard of: The Raven's Library?" He asked with somehow a playfully ironic tone slightly present into his voice, but in the same time serious and direct._

"_Yeah…I think…Hmm…the one from the center?" I asked while I still tried to remember the place and the street, but all that I could see was an old block with red and a dirty orange colored bricks on it, and the whole ground floor, which has big windows with curtains on it, obviously different from the rest; you can see the curtains from outside, but you can't really see inside because of them._

_And on the casual black door, there's a sign which says: 'Welcome to the Raven's Library.'_

_What's odd is that it doesn't says if the library is open or closed, but I guess when he turns the sign, on the other side it should write: 'Closed'._

"_That one." He said, somehow tired of the subject, and since he bought that coffee, this is the first time when he took a slip from it._

The memory played into my mind, not vague but clear, because I thought about it several times, imagined it again and again, to be sure that this is where he works.

But after I came here with my heart beating like a drum of a rock band, I've finally seen the prof that I wasn't mistaken.

Thin pink lips miming the words from the book he's reading. I stared, and I couldn't look away.

When he has put the book down and looked ahead, I could swear that he will see me, so I immediately moved, I've retreated my head and I slammed my head and body to the bookshelf, sticking to it like glue connected us.

I wear a black hood so my blond hair won't be as visible, but my hair is quite long, the rebellious hairs threatening to get out of it, or begging to. It's the hood of my sweatshirt which is also black and gray striped, so it won't stand out at all.

'What am I doing? Isn't this …wrong? ' I thought, quietly into my mind, as if he would hear me if I thought louder.

So I thought again: 'Just a quick peck so I am sure that he is still there, and then I will get the hell out of here.' I thought, alarmed but ashamedly quietly.

I sighted and regained my posture, with my head ducked after the bookshelf, but with the rest of my body after it.

And I did so, to stare at an empty chair, but with the book he was reading on the table, closed.

In that moment, I felt something touching my back and the feeling which came along with a voice:  
"Ahem."  
'Shit.' I thought while I refused to move. 'Go away, go away!' I begged, but then I felt a hot breath at my ear, even if it was under the black hood.

"Naruto…" His deep and seductive voice said my name and a shiver have made its way down my spine.

I straighten up, closed my eyes, sighted and then I opened my eyes to see his face a millimeter away from mine.

I jumped back, and I hit my head to a shelf but before I could collapse the whole huge bookshelf, he grabbed my shoulders and prevented me from destroying the whole library.

"Calm down." He said with his normal voice, but awfully close to me.

I sighted and stared at him as he put his hand into his black hair, ruffling some hairs in the process; a nervous movement which indicates that he is frustrated or upset right now, maybe both.

He looked at me with tired eyes, and after that, he has brought his arms at his chest and with them crossed, he spoke to me in a grave tone:  
"What are you doing here?"  
He asked, and I just didn't know what to say but after several seconds, I've finally picked up an answer from the sea of them, and with difficulty, words with absolutely no connection between them were heard from me:

"Well…I… just…I thought that… " After I started, as forced as I felt and knew that my answer was, I forced myself to say something, anything. But the answer disappeared, along with the sea of them; all that was still present in my mind was the truth, which was harder to be said than anything else.

"You thought what?" He said annoyed that I stopped talking, but he waited and when I started to talk with a sad voice, he started to walk away from me, but I chased after him as I talked, almost yelled:  
"You're avoiding me, now, be sincere and recognize that you're avoiding me! I didn't know what to do so I thought that I'll come here and … and…"

I said but I got lost into my own words again, while he sat himself down on his previous place and he also took his book again, opened it to put it down again as I stared to the floor, then to look up as he smashed the book to the table and then, his hands, while he stood up.

"And what? To spy on me? You…" He yelled, but his scream died in his throat as fast as it started, he sat down again, and stared at me, with eyes that were not angry, but sad.

"What did I do wrong?" I asked him with a very low tone, I couldn't help it because despite all the things that I tried to do, it was impossible not to notice how, suddenly, he disappeared from my sight, leaving no trace, admitting no way for me to see him again.

_I can't take my eyes off of his portrait._

_I stood up like burned from my place and I walked back to the dorm, to my room, and I called him for 20 times, but he didn't answer not even once._

_And three weeks have passed in this horrible way. Me, staring at his portrait and quite occasionally, even though, all the paintings or mostly, the drawings have something to do with him, no matter if the teacher asks me to do something happy and positive, I end up doing something with black in it, something that screams: I'm hurt._

_And I am, no matter how much I tried not to let myself realize, but I wake up drawing something about it, I wake up being comfortable just when I'm alone and when I'm thinking about him, I wake up calling him, no matter where I am and what hour it is, again and again, even though I already know he won't answer. _

_Sometimes, I passed by his block, even if I had no business somewhere so far from school, and once or twice, I even knocked at his door. _

_But I received no answer._

I saw the past few weeks passing before my eyes like the lights of a car on the street, and I'm completely sure that he also sees into my eyes, the pain I had to endure after our friendship started to mean everything to me, and also, the worst of this entire situation is…

"I thought that our friendship means something for you. Of course, we haven't been friends for a long time, but you just disappeared without saying anything, so, I was wrong. Wasn't I?"

I said in a pained voice and somehow I hated myself, I already did without even ending my tantrum, while he just stared at me with hurt black eyes.

"It meant nothing to you. We've just stood together and talked, so it was nothing special, so…"

'I'm contradicting myself.' I thought while I suddenly closed my own mouth along with my eyes.

'We've just stood together and talked, so why am I so stressed about it?'

I asked myself, but I just couldn't respond to myself, but then a red flag has appeared into my mind. It was impossible to ignore it so I started to fight with myself.

'Wait a minute… is it normal? I'm thinking about a guy 24 hours per day, I even dreamt about him and to be like… What am I? A girl? Coming at his workplace and spying on him? Then to complain at him, that he didn't call and didn't what? Dated me?'

The questions, the confusion and the complete change of the situation has made me blush in embarrassment, I immediately refused to think further, ignored the thought and erased it; then I've heard voices, and I've looked around to see two girls giggling after the bookshelf while staring intensely at us.

"Sasuke…" I said as I almost twisted my neck because of the fast way I took my eyes from the girls to look at him, alarmed, as he got up, took my hand and stormed out of the library with me.

He shoved me into the back seat of his car, that was parked right in front of the library, and slammed the door after that; he sat himself in the driver's place, and after he drove for good minutes, he called someone and I unwillingly listened to his conversation which was on the speaker due to the inability of holding the phone and the wheel:  
"Go to the library and replace me, I already left." He said, with a serious, but normal voice. Surprisingly calm.

"Fine, I'm already on my way, but why did you …" He started to ask a question that was obviously about his early leaving.

But he cut the other man off before he could finish.

"Mind your own business." He snapped, and then he suddenly closed the conversation.

However, I didn't even move or said a word. With my head resting to the closed window of the car, I continued to stare outside.

'It started to rain.' I thought, suddenly melancholic.

Even so, I immediately recognized the familiar high school grounds, and when I did, I automatically started to yell at him, outraged:  
"Why did you bring me back?"

Still, until when he stopped the car right in front of the dorm, he didn't answer me, and after he stopped it, he got out into the rain, to walk to my door and to open it for me.

I stared at him for a moment, but then, I also got out in the pouring rain.

He closed the door and then he started to walk towards the driver's seat, on the other side of the car, when I realized he was actually leaving me there; I stopped him by grabbing his arms.

"No. I want to talk with you." I said as loud as I could, but not angry, just trying to make myself heard through the heavy rain which has soaked me to the bone in the mere seconds since I got out of his car.

At first, he refused to turn around, but when he understood that I won't let go of him, he turned around and spoke to me:

"Talk about what? You already know. Don't you?" He almost yelled, a bit disturbed but also trying to get heard through the pouring rain and its sound.

"Know what?" I asked, and all that he did was to look even more frustrated.

"You really don't know?" He answered angry, but in the same time, very serious.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, this time confused but louder, because I felt stupid, like we were talking about two completely different things, and I am the only one who doesn't understand something that it seems that I should.

"Naruto, what are your feelings for me?" He asked as he came closer to me, so I could hear him better.

"You are a great friend…" I said somehow feeling weird that I had to make a statement out of my feelings, and I waited for him to talk, while looking ahead, but he didn't talked so I looked at him, while his head is almost on my left shoulder, but he's taller than me, I could tell that because he would've touched it but I'm way smaller.

"Why…what are your feelings for me?" I asked while I tried to keep his intense gaze; it is like he is forcing me to stare into his eyes, he refuses to look away from my eyes.

But he also refuses to answer.

"Sasuke…you hate me?" I was seriously confused. I just couldn't stop thinking that I was the only one who wanted us to be friends, while he was refusing that with his entire might.

After I said my question, he smirked, somehow ironic and I was even more confused than before, if that was possible.

The sky continued to cry over us, but the wind was completely quiet.

'God…how hard it's raining…' I said as the water poured down from the tip of my head to my shoes, and when he came closer to me with his body and then with his head, I thought that he wanted me to hear him but it wasn't like I thought.

Because then when I was looking into his eyes, waiting for his answer, his lips were one millimeter away from mine, I could feel his breath upon my lips and then I felt his lips colliding with my own.

Wet with the water of the rain, but still soft, and the peck was enough for me to close my eyes, then to open them when I realized what was happening, I opened them in a moment when I was able to see that he has also closed his eyes, to open them one second after I opened mine.

'Did you just…?' I wanted to ask but nothing came out, instead, I stood there in the rain with my lips parted while I stared at him and as he stared at my lips, then without even wanting, I also stared at his lips, right before when those thin soft lips met mine just one more time.

Then to be left with my eyes closed in the heavy rain, and to open them when no warmth was around me anymore, staring, to see his car getting smaller and smaller into the distance, until he was gone and I was again…

'Alone.'

…..*…..

Into the middle of the night, I woke up into his bed, and then to realize that maybe I fell asleep upon the piano once again.

'I made him sleep on the couch again.'

His bed, surprisingly close to the wall with the window, invites me to look outside.

'It rains.'

To be continued…

Finally, a new chapter. It took more time than I wanted, and what's worse, is that I didn't even could correct it as much as I wanted to. The reason why it took so much is because of my computer which blocks per minute, my good computer and friend has died.

My father is working on constructing a new one but it will take a while, until then, I'm forced to try and write something with this slow, annoying and prehistoric computer! Sorry about it though…It's not my fault _.

Thank you very much for your patience and I have a new poll about a Christmas gift, of stories of course(hint: it's about a lemon). Check it out if you want.

Hope everybody liked the chapter.


	10. Chapter 10:Down

Chapter 10: Down

Feels like an eternity has passed since I came out without a specific destination on the street, to simply walk.

And forever since I have not seen Naruto who now walks with me.

Silent. Incredibly quiet and pale. As if his mind is not here, however, my mind is also not here.

We both went to eat something and then we woke up that no one has the appetite. Not even Naruto, which is rare.

I wanted to ask what happened that he is so sad, but then I realized that and I behave like him.

No one wants to tell the other what happened in those weeks in which we have not seen each other.

It's almost night time, and the sky looks the same as yesterday when it rained, I feel like yesterday, stuck on yesterday, no, I feel worse than yesterday.

Into the middle of the night, I woke up into his bed, and then to realize that maybe I fell asleep upon the piano once again.

'I made him sleep on the couch again.'

His bed, surprisingly close to the wall with the window, invites me to look outside.

'It rains.'

I sat up from the bed and I opened the door that did an echo in the chamber of his house, which is almost empty and covered in darkness.

I went to the kitchen slowly, where I opened the refrigerator, which began making a strange sound automatically.

The only existent light was coming from the refrigerator.

I took the box of milk and I started to drink it in one gulp. Until I choked at how quickly I tried to drink it.

And then I automatically stopped chocking when I heard a sound, no, a song.

'The piano?'

First, I thought he was strange or more, obsessed, he does not break up from the piano not even at home, but even so, after it seemed logical that a successful musician to have a piano in his house.

I walked slowly to the living room to see him dressed in a loose gray shirt and blue long pants while sitting at the piano, with a little tousled hair, singing beautifully.

I was leaning against door frame and drank the milk slowly while he sings a song just a bit sad.

"You're already awake?" He asked me with a voice which is in the same time awake, but also tired.

"Did you sleep?" I answered to his question with another question that was clearly ironic.

"Touché!" He said with a grin.

The melody was comfortable and even the silence was comfortable when it was just the two of us. We got used to each other terribly.

But what were the moments when I hated him playing the piano were when he also wanted to say something to me, his lips depart as he wants to say something but then they shut again, stopping him from voicing his thoughts.

And I always wait for him to lose the battle with himself so he'll finally speak.

"Tomorrow, you're free. But only tomorrow, so take advantage of it."

I looked at him, amazed, I did not understand why, tomorrow of all day and after so many days, I'm free, but I thought that if I ask, he'll get angry, and I won't be free anymore, and if it's really something important then he will tell me later.

But that didn't stop me to ask him why, but thought that I'll finally meet with Naruto, so I took another sip of the cold milk and with a distant but sure voice, I said:

"Okay."

And now, here I am with Naruto, solving nothing.

And without me even realizing, I got halfway the road, and Naruto is no longer with me.

I looked back and saw him looking at me with bright blue eyes.

I went near him and before I could say anything, he started to scream in the middle of street:

"Lord! I beg you! Say something!"

I looked at him blankly, but then I got mad and I yelled back.

"But you? Why should I say something? You say something!"

At that moment, I realized how awkward the situation was, and into his eyes I saw that he had made the same thing at the same time.

We both started to laugh.

...*...

"Hey! Sasuke! Are you home?" I screamed, and no one answered to me, then I went upstairs and found him busily painting.

"Do not you ever change?" I asked him and he immediately recognized the voice so he stopped painting and looked at me with a friendly grin.

"Hyuuga, I thought you won't come this year. It seems that I was wrong."

"Cold as always. You never learn the proper way to welcome your guests. Don't you Uchiha?"

I asked him, while I was also constantly grinning.

"Why would I do that? You know I love being unique."

We embraced each other, after all, we meet only once per year.

Today.

We went along. First to the flower shop, then I drove until I found the right street, although one whole year has passed since we've last been on it, the street has not changed at all.

As we placed the purple irises on the wet tombstone due to the rain, as if it's crying, we started talking.

With a ghost.

"How are you? We've missed you."

"We are healthy. And we are not poor, yet."

We both looked at the tombstone, with eyes full of pain, memories and above all, of longing.

We walked away with slow steps, and like that, on our way, it started to rain again.

As if the sky it's crying. As if the ghost is crying.

...*...

„Boys! Get out immediately!"

An employee of the store with a broom in his hand began to yell at us as we continually hindered by anything.

"Calm down old man! We did nothing wrong."

I said with a voice clearly drunk.

"That's it! What he says ..."

Naruto said, and both started to laugh.

We ran outside, while the old man cursed and banished us in the same time.

When we parted, and when I had to remember the way to Neji's home, I realized that I do not remember.

So I did the first thing that came to mind. I leaned against a pole which had the street's name on it and I called him:

"Neji ..." I whispered until he answered.

"Hello?"

"Neji ... Come and get me ..." These words were enough to change the tone of his voice in a serious tone.

"Where are you?"

After I gave enough vague clues about where I am and about how cold I am. The conversation became pleasant, at least for me.

"Your hair... looks really strange in the morning! And when you do not sleep for days, you have a terrible snoring! Like you're a bear! And..."

And while I was so focused in my interesting conversation, he shut my call.

I wanted to swear, but after two seconds, while I realized what happened, his car was right in front of me, with him driving and with a little nervous grin.

"You talk a lot when you're drunk. Did you know that?"

I collapsed on the back seat, and I didn't talk at all, all the way.

Somehow, after he turned on the music, I remained completely silent, listening. Dreaming.

When I had to get up, and off the car, and then to walk, I refused completely, saying that I want to sleep in the car. When he convinced me to try, I gave up immediately.

"Two steps! And he falls! What did you drink?"

He asked while struggling to put me on his back.

"I do not know ... something ... had a nice name ..."

"Do not bother to remember, it will only be worse!" He said quite amused.

It was easy until we had to enter the block, the first door was tall, and instead, the elevator's door was very low.

"Head down!"

"Ouch!"

"Told you."

Then pressing the elevator's button for choosing the floor.

"Do not move."

I stretched my right hand, while holding him just with my left hand, while he hangs from my neck but I do not know why, he began to struggle and scream.

"Faster!"

And in exactly the same time when I pressed the button, I heard a bang and I did not felt him on my back anymore, while I stand with my left hand in the same position, holding the air.

"Man down!"

When we left the elevator, an old lady watched us very suspicious.

"Hi Martha." I said, but she continued to look, sending accusing glances at us while she also looked confused.

Finally, in the apartment, we took off our shoes, well, I also took off his shoes, and then I've carried him to bed.

"You're alive?"

I asked him while I took a few hairs off his face.

He's breathing fast but short, and with eyes closed, he seemed exhausted.

I just wrapped him in a blanket and I just barely took a step toward the door to be stopped.

When I looked back. He was holding me by my sleeve.

"Do not go ..."

He whispered and I could not believe my ears.

The boy who's always a loner, now, does not want to sleep alone.

"Fine." I said slowly, accepting defeat.

I sat on the bed beside him, and he hung on me immediately.

"I'm not your pillow ... hey ... you hear me?"

I said, but he did not budge, I looked at his sleeping face and I felt my stomach tighten and also my chest...

'He does it on purpose?' I asked, but then I looked wet lips, face calm, and long eyelashes.

'No. It's not his style. '

I said as I closed my eyes. To open them once again.

Then I felt his hot breath on my neck.

'You got to be kidding me...'

I started to peel him off of me, hardly.

Finally I succeeded, getting to sit above him, and him, beneath me.

'He will not know anyway ...'

I told myself, while I leaned over on top of him. Until I reached soft parted lips.

To be continued...

It took an eternity! Yeah, I know. Same old problem with the computer. Waited to get a new one. But it all was a joke, no new computer! Stuck with this jerk!

Sorry!

Anyway, Happy New Year! Everybody! With lots of reviews! (Hope dies the last)


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